Foundations
by pottersweetie
Summary: So, I know five things for sure. One, my mother killed Jumpers. Two, she was kidnapped by two of them. Three, David Rice IS a Jumper. Four, he's also my brother, and my only hope at saving my mom. Five, my life is getting irreversibly messed-up.
1. Prologue

**Foundations  
By: pottersweetie**

**Author's Note:** Because I'm an avid fan of fleshing out the minor character, a plot sprouted up in my mind surrounding the two-second character of Sophie. Thus, here is 'Foundations.' Set after _Jumper_, and going on from there. In Sophie's point of view. Enjoy, Read, Review!

**Prologue**

"Mom, who was that guy?"

She looks up at me from where she's started making coffee, her hands shaking slightly. With a smile slipping into place, she shakes her head and says, "No one."

I stare at her.

"Just a client," she amends.

What my mom does exactly- I don't even know.

Hopping onto one of the barstools at the island counter, I press, "What'd he want?"

"I just had to give him some documents," she says absently, seeming to be concentrating on the coffee-maker with renewed intensity. "Do you want some?" she gestures to the appliance as it whirs and gurgles into life.

I shake my head.

She stares at the pot as the brown liquid begins to drip and fall into it, as if her mind is elsewhere. I stare at her with my eyebrows knotted. There's got to be more to this guy than she's letting on. When she saw who was at the door, I saw how the realization clicked into place- how she froze a little bit. And then she asked me to go upstairs.

First of all, she never has people over for business. No one even calls the _houseline_ if it concerns her work. And there was something about this guy anyway. Like she didn't expect to see him. And then he watched me as I walked up the stairs and down the hall, as if trying to figure out who I was or if I recognized him. Everything about it confuses and irks me.

"What was his name?" I ask.

Without thinking about it, and sounding as if she's in a trance, she says, "David."

David.

"David what?"

This seems to snap her into place, and she turns to look at me, putting an amused smile on her face, teasing, "Why are you so interested in my work all of a sudden?"

I shrug, "You just seem a little nervous."

She stops for a moment, smiling sympathetically now, "Soph- I'm sorry." Shaking her head, she says, "It's just work- it's a little stressful right now- not just concerning David, but in general."

Slowly, I nod, but I don't believe her.

Mom's work has always been mysterious and questionable. As long as I can remember, it's been a secret. If I ask about it- which I have- she just artfully dodges the question until I don't even think about it anymore. My friends ask, and sometimes their parents do, and I always have to lie and say she's in law or something. I mean, that's all I can come up with- I know she deals with FBI agents and police officers enough for it to be a half-truth. And usually, I don't really care all that much. I'm so used to it being a secret, that I just don't think about it anymore. But- this guy.... He's making me wonder, and he's unsettling my confidence.

"So, do you have any plans for tonight?" Mom asks, smiling as she gets a mug from the cabinet.

And just like that, we're off of the topic- though, I don't want to be.


	2. Jumpers

**Chapter One  
Jumpers**

Something wakes me up. It's not a noise, or anything tangible, it's just- something. I lay in the darkness for a half of a second, before I hear something slam into a wall. A gasp rattles through my throat and I jump, sitting up. The sound of furniture scraping across the floor, and Mom yelling something, meets my ears. There's a sound of violent buzzing, and then Mom screams. I'm halfway out of bed when I hear a deep male voice yell something, and then I'm frozen.

Someone's in the house.

My heart pounds in my chest and I frantically look around my room.

No phone in here. No computer. I have to save my mom but, what am I supposed to do? Am I fit to fight a grown man?

"You son of a bitch jumper!"

I gasp again. I've never heard my mom curse before.

I throw the covers back and hurry to my door, opening it up slowly and quietly. My mom's bedroom door is closed, and I creep down the hall, against the wall, staring at it. I take in a deep, shaking breath as I near the door. Realizing that I can't fight off this man with my bare hands, I grab the flowers out of the vase on the end table against the wall, chucking them to the side. I grasp the empty vase in my left hand, and with my right, I reach out for the doorknob. My hand is shaking profusely as I grasp the knob, afraid to actually open it.

The man's voice booms throughout the house: "Do I have to break your jaw to shut you up- Stop grabbing for that damn thing- argh!"

I turn the knob and ease the door open. The scene before me is violent. Mom's fallen over the bed, holding a sort of baton-like thing that's got a wire- holding an electric current- coming out of it, attached to a tall, dark-haired man's chest. He's writhing on foot in front of her, and yelling. By the open balcony door is a younger, shorter man. He hurries over to the first guy with a pair of pliers, cutting the wire that's holding him to my mom's baton.

"Mom!" I shout.

"Sophie!" she looks ten times more alarmed than before.

The first man lunges forward at her, and I scream.

"Sophie! If anything happens-" she's struggling to say as she fights off the man, "-find Genie at the square dance, okay?"

I nod, understanding her code. "Mom, what do you-"

"Luke, now!" the first man shouts to the second, as he's got a hold on both of my mom's hands and has her pinned down.

I rush forward and try to hit him with the vase, but I fall onto the bed, hitting nothing. When I try to get up, looking around, my heart speeds up even further. The room is empty. The two guys, Mom- they're all gone. Sitting up, I drown in the silence of the now empty house, listening to my breathing as it goes ragged and erratic. A sob pulls up my chest and I choke on it. What is this- How? I can't even bring myself to ask the questions. Have I gone insane? What was that that just happened? The answers don't come to me, so I sit on the bed, staring into the dark room, feeling the warm summer air drift in from the open balcony door- evidence that they _were_ here.

I have to do something. I have to move. Realizing this, I stand. My legs feel like they're made of flinty lead, and my muscles don't seem to know how to work properly. I force myself to move forward, closing the balcony door and locking it. Next, I move out of the room, and down the hallway. It takes me a minute, but I manage to go down the stairs without falling, leaning against the railing with all my weight the whole time.

Crossing the space of the entrance hall, and then the kitchen, I open the door of my mom's office, flick the light on, and step inside.

The whole room is neat and sparse- something I should have expected from my mom. Though this is the first time I've entered this room since I was twelve, I don't look around or take time to admire the decor. Immediately, I hurry across the room. I move the Ansel Adams photograph from its place on the wall, leaning it against my mom's chair. Moving to the safe, hidden in the wall, behind the photograph, I turn the dial for the combination with shaking hands.

_25-6-14_

It's not hard to remember. I've known it since I was old enough to turn the dial. Every year, Mom's made me say the combination, just to make sure I haven't forgotten it. Then, she asks me what the code for 'find the folder in the safe' is.

_Find Genie at the square dance._

I swallow my fear and anxiety down as the metal door of the safe swings open. Inside, is a whole arrangement of things. There's a box near the back, a whole array of folders, two solid gold bars, a laptop, a briefcase, and a cell phone. I ignore the other objects and pull out the folders. I pass over ones with names that don't mean anything to me, until I come to one that says 'David.' My eyes linger on the name, and I think back to December. That guy who came to our house. Mom said he was getting something for work. But she seemed so unsettled, and he seemed surprised to see me. I had forgotten about that until now. I tuck the folder under my arm, and continue my search, stopping when I find the folder that says 'Sophie' on the outside of it. I put the other folders back, and kneel on the floor.

Right inside my folder is an envelope that says my name on it too. I open this and find a note that reads:

_Sophie,_

_If you're reading this, than that means something's suddenly happened to me. I don't know what's happened, so I can't explain anything to you. I can only hope that I'll see you again, and that I'll be able to explain everything to you when I do. I'm sorry._

_I need you to follow my instructions very carefully:_

_Number one: Don't try to help me, or save me- if you think it's possible. Sophie, honey, there's so much you don't understand about what we're dealing with, so you have to listen to me on this._

_Number two: There's money in the second envelope in the folder. That is for you._

_Number three: Go to Tatiana's house and stay there. Give her the envelope addressed to her in this folder._

_Number four: Don't go to the police, under any circumstances. Tatiana understands this, and I need you to trust me on this. Sophie. Do not go to the police._

_Sophie, I love you. I'm sorry for whatever has happened, because, ultimately, I have to blame myself. Don't worry though, because everything's going to be all right. Keep praying. Do as I've instructed. I love you, Boom._

_Love,  
Mom  
_  
By the time I finish the note, I'm crying.

The mention of her nickname for me- Boom- has really gotten to me. What if I never see her again? What if those people who disappeared with her are going to kill her? I can't function without my mom- I can't live on my own.

Shaking my head, I stand up. For now, I have to do as my mom's told me to do. I close the safe and put the Ansel Adams picture back.

Running back to my room, I change into jeans and a black, long-sleeved t-shirt. Throwing some clothes and necessities into a duffle bag, I jam my feet into my sneakers, grab my cell phone, the folders, and the keys to my mom's BMW SAV and go outside, locking the door behind me.

It's four o'clock in the morning, and the world around our house is quiet and calm. Across the river, the bridge is dimly lit, beautiful in its familiarity. It's strange to think that my world has been so disturbed and shaken, when everything around me is calm and peaceful. For a minute, I almost believe that everything is okay, and that I imagined everything. But I catch sight of Mom's balcony door, and I remember that _I_ closed it after it had been opened by those men. This make me press my lips together with determination, open the car and slide inside. I throw my things on the passenger seat and wrench my seat-belt into place, starting the car and backing out of the driveway slowly.

When I'm on the road, on my way across town to Tatiana's house, I have time to think.

The first thing that enters my mind is the scene of my mom fighting that man. I can still see her, holding that baton with the electric wire shot out of it, into the man's chest. What was that? And how- how did they all just disappear into thin air? I blink away the tears in my eyes- the tears of confusion and anxiety that are welling up in my lids. If I had moved faster- if I had hit that man with the vase immediately, could I have saved Mom? But that second, younger guy- Would he have taken me on if I had tried to fight the other one? I swallow. There's no use regretting what's already happened, I just have to look to the future and pray for the best.

My resolve changes when I pull up in front of my mom's friends house.

Tatiana is the one person I know that works with my mom. They're best friends too, so I see her and her husband and their ten year old son all the time. I even baby-sit for them. And the idea of going into their house and having someone share in my distress right now sounds great. I know that Tatiana will make me sit down at the kitchen table with some hot chocolate. She'll probably repeat some scripture to me, and then she'll sit with me and pray for my mom, but- I don't want to pray. I'm too restless to sit and pray. I need to go and physically help my mother. _Don't call the police? Don't try to save me?_ Then who _is_ going to save her? Who is going to bring her back and make sure she's alive?

I have to do something.

The sigh that I let out sounds loud in the small space of the car. I look over toward Tatiana's sleeping house.

That's when I look at the passenger's seat, and realize that I brought the 'David' folder with me.

I pick that up and open it, finding a picture of the guy from December clipped to the folder itself. Under this, is a sheet of information.

_Name: David Rice_

_D.O.B: April 19, 1985_

_Status: Jumper_

_Address: 198 Beachfront, Provincetown, Cape Cod, Massachusetts_

Jumper? What does that mean-

_You son of a bitch jumper!_

Those guys were.... jumpers? And David Rice is a jumper?

I close the folder and put it back on the seat.

If they're all jumpers, then I'm going to find David Rice, he's going to give me some answers, and I'm going to save my mom.

And who cares if her plans told me otherwise?

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'd love to hear some feedback! Reviews are always appreciated!


	3. Now rather than Never

**Author's Note:** Thank you to those who reviewed. **Era Lupus**, I laughed out loud when I read your review. Holy Hera? I might have to use that from now on. I'm glad you like the story so far. Part of the reason I started this story was because Kristen Stewart was Sophie. I think she's a great actress and I thought it would be fun if they made a sequel and fleshed her out. She didn't get much credit for her initial role in _Jumper_, so I thought I'd write something to do with the character she played. Thanks a lot for reviewing! Everyone, here's chapter two! Hope you all like it!

**Chapter Two  
Now rather than Never**

It takes me almost six hours to get to Cape Cod. I have no idea where I'm going, the sun is barely up, and I can't shake the nervous adrenaline that is surging through my body. But, as I navigate the quiet highways, staring ahead, barely seeing what's in front of me, I have time to calm down and think. The sound of my mom's GPS guides me when I lose my way, and I don't have to do much concentrating on my driving. Instead, I'm able to focus on my night, sorting out the future, and breathing. I have time to offer myself every possibility. Aliens. Spiritual phenomenon. Insanity. Hole in the space-time continuum. But nothing seems concrete. So, jumpers. Those who.... jump? What does that even mean? Is jumping simply disappearing into thin air? If so, then where are they right now? I can't figure it out, and my head starts to hurt once I've entered Connecticut. I don't know if it's from a ruined night of sleep, stress, insanity, or the result of my brain working overtime, but I allow my mind to go completely blank, and that seems to help.

Somewhere in Rhode Island, I start shaking. I feel lightheaded, and my stomach feels as if it's swirling acids and scrap metal like a washing machine. When I can visibly see my knuckles whitening against the steering wheel- my muscles tensing, trying to stay still- I exit the highway and pull into a diner. Maybe I need some coffee or something.

The place is nearly empty, save for a few truckers and some rowdy teenagers. I ask for a seat at the bar and lift myself up onto one of the stools, feeling as if my whole body is about to collapse.

"What can I get for you, sweetie?" a short woman with a dyed-red perm and orange-red lipstick asks from behind the bar.

Swallowing, I say, "Coffee, please- Black." My voice comes out hoarse and thick, making me wince. As an afterthought, I add, "And a bagel too, please."

She nods, glancing back at me as she pours some steaming coffee into a mug. When she places it before me, she stares for a minute.

I don't meet her eyes, afraid she'll start asking me questions or telling me stories. Instead, I focus my attention on the teenagers sitting across the diner, loud and obnoxious. From what I can gather from here, they've woken up 'hella early' so they can go to the beach and be there in time to get good seats at an outdoor concert. Listening to them depresses me, so I take a gulp of my coffee. It burns my tired throat, and I wince.

"So, where are you from, hun?" the woman asks, cutting my bagel behind the counter.

This is what I wanted to avoid.

"Pennsylvania," I lie.

She nods, handing me a bagel, cut in half. With a smile she says, "You don't look like you want to be awake right now."

"That's 'cause I don't," I say, allowing myself to laugh a little.

She just stares at me. Maybe the stress and anxiety is coming off of me in waves- like radiation. Maybe she can feel it. She definitely knows I'm not okay.

"I'm going to visit my dad in Massachusetts," I lie again. I've never met my dad- I don't know what he looks like, who he is, why he's not a part of my life, or what his last name is. I took my mom's last name. I have no connection to a man I'm claiming to be visiting. "My mom's going to Italy with her friends, so I'm staying with Dad for a few weeks."

I'm surprised at how easily the lies are rolling off my tongue.

The woman- name-tagged Deana- smiles, "Sounds like fun."

I shrug, "Yeah."

Please, just- Leave me alone for a few minutes.

As if noticing I want to be ignored, she says, "All right, dear, you just yell if you need anything."

I nod, but she's already turning away. At the end of the bar, she starts chatting with a guy who's watching the TV hanging from the ceiling. They laugh and joke, and I try to ignore them. I take another gulp of the coffee, ready for the burn this time. Letting out a breath, I begin to rip a piece of my bagel off. Really, this seems as appealing as eating cardboard. Deana has left a little dish of packaged butter, cream cheese, and jelly. I highly doubt any of those will make it anymore appealing. I force myself to eat the bit I've ripped off, chewing like I'm working through tree bark. Swallowing everything down after I've partially chewed it- with the aid of the coffee- seems to work, and I manage to eat three quarters of the thing.

Thankfully, I've stopped shaking, and my stomach doesn't seem so turbulent anymore. Also, my mind- though still weary from shock and nervous agitation- is surprisingly neutral- albeit, a little nervous- especially given the circumstances.

Because of this calm, I have time to think about what I'm doing- _really_ think about it.

I'm only eighteen, can I really handle all that I'm trying to take on? I've never lived on my own, my mother's always been there for me. I go to church every Sunday and I've always gotten good grades. I'm going to Columbia in the fall to study sociology and anthropology. Not once have I ever done anything disobedient or.... Interesting. I'm not athletic or savvy when it comes to strategy and physical endurance. Can I save my mom from whoever these guys are- even if I can get information from David Rice? Am I capable of something like this? I mean, I could get back in the car and turn around right now. By this time tomorrow, I could be in Tatiana's living room, watching cartoons with her kid, eating macaroni and cheese, safe.

"Are you ready for the check?"

I nod absently to the woman behind the counter, staring at the laminated formica counter blindly.

The sound of my mother's scream reverberates in the corners of my mind. These people- they have her, and no one else knows this but me. I'll respect her wish of keeping this from the police, but I can't just hide out in Tatiana's house, waiting for something to happen. Even if Tatiana got help, I- I have to be a part of this. I saw my mom's fear- I witnessed them struggling to get her- I have to be a part of saving her- if that means solely, than so be it.

I dig out some of the money I had stuck in my wallet at my house, and pay the check, giving the waitress a tip as well, before leaving.

Now, to finish the leg of the trip and get to David Rice.

* * *

When I reach Provincetown, it's nearly ten in the morning. The sun is up and the sky is a bright, bright blue. Cape Cod is filled with brunchers and beach-goers, boaters and tourists. In town, I ask a local to point me toward Beachfront, and I end up driving down a road that is adjacent to the beach. Obviously.

One ninety-eight is at the end of the road. It's small and gray, with a tiny garden, and wind-chimes hanging along the eaves by the front door. I park in the street, grab the folder titled 'David,' and my phone, and get out. The walk up to the door takes me all of two minutes, and by the time I'm reaching for the bell, I realize that I can't turn back now.

The sound of the door bell resounds in the house and I wait, my heart thumping strangely in my throat.

"I got it!" I hear a male voice yelling, and I contemplate turning tail and running for a split second.

Before I can escape though, the door's opening, and behind another screen door, stands David Rice. I remember him still- even though I haven't seen him since December. His sandy brown hair is the same, his eyes curious and safe. From what I can see, he's wearing a plain white t-shirt, and he looks as if he has no idea who I am.

He gives me a little smile, saying, "Can I help you?"

Weren't those my _exact_ words to him, months ago?

I don't know what else to say, so I say, "I'm Sophie."

"Okay," he says, waiting for the punchline.

Taking a deep breath, I work up my nerve and hold the folder up for him to see, "You're a jumper."

His eyes narrow, and his brow furrows, "Do I know-"

"I'm Mary's daughter," I say sternly, watching as the realization slides into place on his face. "She was kidnapped by jumpers and I want some answers."

For a moment he just stares at me, shocked. Then, a whole array of emotions pass over his face. He's scared, angry, relieved, and then scared again- nervous. He stares at my face intently, as if taking in my whole appearance. Can he feel the waves of anxiety too- like the lady at the diner? I hold my ground regardless, staring into his eyes with a confidence and determination that I didn't know I possessed. I know he recognizes me, but I can't place the emotions flickering behind his eyes now- Regret? I just can't tell, so I wait.

"Sophie, is it?" he asks. I nod once. "You better come inside."

He opens the screen door and I know it's now or never.

I take a step forward, entering the house. I guess it's now, rather than never.

* * *


	4. Family Ties

**Author's Note:** Oh, the reviews! I love them to pieces! **cheapxperfume**, I'm so glad to see your wonderful reviews in another fandom for me! Eeeek! Because I think everyone's a huge fan of Griffin, I'd like to point out that he IS in this story. But, he'll be joining us in a couple of chapters! Here is chapter three! Enjoy.

**Chapter Three  
Family Ties**

The inside of the house is airy and sweet. We walk through a family room that's clean, but lived-in, with a couch and a recliner and a small entertainment system. David leads me into a bright and sunny kitchen. In the far wall is a sliding glass door that leads out onto a deck, that opens down to the beach. Only the screen of the door is shut, and a cool, salty breeze is drifting into the room. I press my lips together at the smell of brine- my constitution can't handle it right now.

"Uh- You can sit if you want," he says to me as we enter the kitchen. He gestures to two stools set up at the bar-counter that faces the entirety of the kitchen. I'm tired, so I sit. He looks at me from where he leans on the other counter.

I stare back defiantly.

It doesn't look like he's going to say anything, so I do: "Are we going to stare at each other all day, or what?"

"Right," he seems to remember himself. "You said Mary was kidnapped by Jumpers?"

I nod. It's taking him too long to grasp this.

"Start from the beginning," he says, coming over and leaning on the counter across from me.

Sighing, I tell him, "I woke up in the middle of the night and heard someone in the house, and my mom was screaming. I went to her room and found her fighting these two guys, and she called one of them a Jumper." He waits as I continue, "When I got in there, they disappeared into thin air before I could do anything."

"And she called one of them a Jumper?"

I stare at him, "Are you having a hard time following this?"

"I'm clarifying."

"Yes, she called one of them a Jumper."

He looks away and thinks for a minute.

Suddenly, a girl's voice says, "David, who was it-" It's a short brunette, clad in shorts and a t-shirt, looking surprised to see me. "Helloooo."

"Hi."

"Millie, this is Sophie," David says. "Sophie, this is my fiancee, Millie."

She smiles at me, unsure, and asks, "Are you a friend of David's?"

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"My mom was kidnapped by Jumpers," he says to her.

"No," I say. "_My_ mom."

He just looks at me, saying, "Yeeeeah."

Millie looks between the both of us, surprised, and asks David, "Is she your- Are you guys...."

"Do you mind if Sophie and I just talk for a minute?" David asks.

"Sure," she says. "I'll just- I'll go upstairs."

When she disappears, he turns back to me and says, "So, who are these Jumpers?"

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open a little. "I don't know! I don't even know what the hell a Jumper _is_!"

Suddenly, with a slight whoosh of wind, he's gone, and then he's beside me on the other side of the counter. Then he's gone, behind the counter again.

I gasp.

"That's a Jumper," he says.

I stare at him, "You- _jumped_?"

"It's like teleporting- I guess," he shrugs.

"And- there are more of you?" I ask, my voice shaking.

I'm not going crazy.

He shakes his head, "Tons more."

"Is there some kind of secret organization then?" I ask dryly.

He laughs a little at that, saying, "No. I think everyone's mostly on their own."

"So why did two Jumpers kidnap my mom?"

Wincing a little and then sighing, he says, "She's a Paladin."

"A what?"

Why do I feel like I'm in another country, where everyone's speaking a different language?

"A Paladin," he says tiredly. "Someone who kills Jumpers."

My mouth falls open, shock congealing in my stomach. I look around, trying to find some meaning in his words from my surroundings, but it confuses me even more. Fumbling, I say, "No. My mom can't be- She would never kill someone. She-"

"She's a Paladin," he says with definition.

Shaking my head, I say, "No. She's very religious- She has the Ten Commandments memorized!" My voice shakes as I say, "Sixth commandment- 'Thou shall not kill.'"

He laughs humorlessly, looking me in the eye and saying, "How about 'thou shall kill in the name of God?'"

I shake my had, suddenly nervous, saying, "That's not a commandment."

"No, but it's basically the code of the Paladins," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What are you talking about?"

He smirks, mimicking my own words by saying, "Are you having a hard time following this?"

I narrow my eyes at him, giving him a sickened and pissed-off smile.

"Seriously," he amends, sobering up. "Paladins kill Jumpers, and one of the main reasons is that they think God should be the only one with the power to do what we can do."

Pressing my tongue against the back of my teeth, I think about this.

"But- Couldn't you just argue that God created you this way, so it's His will?"

David gives me an incredulous look, "I've never been able to sit down with a Paladin to try that out. I'll let you know how that goes-"

I have no patience for this guy's sarcasm, so I cut him off, "If my mom _is_ a Paladin, and _she's_ the one that kills Jumpers, then why was she the one who was kidnapped?"

"I don't know," he says, looking down and becoming quiet.

The uncertainty of his words makes me feel sick and my heart starts pounding.

For a moment, neither of us says anything. The kitchen fills with a silence that seeps into every corner and space in the room. Outside, seagulls cry out and waves crash against the sand, but they seem unreal, like they're part of another world. I would appreciate the beauty of Cape Cod- I've never been here before- were I not in this situation that's filling me with anxiety. Glancing over at David, I see him leaning against the other counter, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes thoughtful. I start biting my nails- a habit I thought I kicked before high school started. I wonder, who is this guy and why do I feel like I've been plunged into his life- much farther than I ever wanted to be?

"How do you know my mom?" I ask suddenly. "You came to my house in December- Why?"

He looks at me, and I can see some kind of answer flitting behind his eyes. But he hesitates and takes in a deep breath.

I give him an impatiently expectant look.

"I don't know if I'm the one who should tell you that," he says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I counter challengingly.

He shakes his head.

I shrug, annoyed, "So she's a Paladin, and you're a Jumper- Did she try to kill you or something? I mean, you guys seemed amiable enough."

He glances at me sideways, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips- another one of those dry, cynical ones.

"What?!" I shout, my patience dissipating suddenly.

"She never tried to kill me," he says. "She saved me- Helped me when other Paladins were after me."

I narrow my eyes and furrow my brow, asking, "Why?"

He just looks at me.

"I can handle it," I prod.

He shakes his head, "I really don't think I'm meant to tell you this-"

"Listen," I snap, "my mom's with these guys- wherever they are- and she could very well be getting tortured or killed or jumped or something- I don't know! You're the only one I'm going to get answers from- there's no one else who _could be_ meant to tell me anything."

Staring at me intensely, as if he's trying to see right through me, he lets out a breath, shaking his head and looking away.

"Damnit!" I slam my palm against the counter. "You're my only hope- my only key into this freaky world you belong to!"

This seems to make him laugh a little, and he nods, as if he realizing he has no other choice.

"Can I ask you a question- before I explain anything?"

I sigh, giving him a look that permits him further.

Leaning forward against the counter, he asks, "Who is your father?"

"What?" I utter.

"Answer the question," he says simply, sternly.

Stuttering, I say, "I-I don't know- I never met him."

"She never talked about him?"

"No," I shake my head, shrugging again. "I asked, but she always said it didn't matter."

He nods at this.

I lose my patience again, snapping with, "Why?!"

For a split second I'm worried he's going to say something weird- like, tell me he's my father.

My throat clenches closed and I swallow hard.

"She's my mother."

"Who is?" I ask, because he's thrown me now.

He stares at me, "Mary."

"Mary- _My_ mom?"

He nods.

"No," I blurt. "N-No, that's not- You're not-" I laugh nervously, shaking my head.

Sighing, he says, "Sophie, I'm pretty sure I'm your brother."

"What?" is all I can think of as a response.

* * *


	5. Being Jumped

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews! Also, thanks to anyone who added this story to his or her favorites or alerts! Here is chapter four! I hope everyone's ready for Griffin, because he'll be making his debut in the next chapter!  


* * *

**Chapter Four  
Being Jumped**

I sit on the stairs of the deck at the back of the house, staring over the beach that fans out from the yard. Directly across from me is a barricade of rocks that slopes down to the sand, with a little, makeshift stairway of the same rocks embedded into the incline. The sand of the beach is white and soft-looking, made of tiny dunes and dips. Under the bright afternoon sun, the water glitters and rolls against the beach gently, making soft whooshing sounds that lull my eyes to drooping. Seagulls cry overhead, diving and soaring from the sand to the sky, erratic and wild. Hardly any people are on this beach, making me thinks it's private- which I appreciate right now. I like being on my own to think.

"David, are you sure this is a good idea?"

David's fiancee's voice drifts down from the upstairs window and I sigh.

"She's my mom, Millie," he says.

After the shock of what David had said in the kitchen had worn off, I had been able to listen to him explain the facts.

"Our mom left when I was five," he explained. "I didn't know why and I didn't know I was a Jumper or that she was a Paladin. She was just gone one day."

I stared at him. How could he be talking about _my_ mom? It was like I had been plucked out of the real world and stuck into an alternate universe. Kind of like a really bad science fiction movie. One that I didn't want to watch.

He sighed, rubbing his neck and saying, "When I was fifteen I jumped for the first time and I left home because life was shitty in Ann Arbor."

"And you jumped to my- to Mom?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"No, I made a life for myself in New York City," he said with a little smile. "Things got complicated though. This Paladin was hell-bent on killing me and Mom was trying to lead them off my scent or something," he shook his head. "Long story short, I left the Paladin somewhere he'll be stuck for life and found Mom- that was when I was at your house in December."

I shook my head, asking, "And what? You decided to stay away?"

"She's a Paladin, she can't stop what she does just because I'm her son," he said, a little regret seeping into his words. "The most she could do was give me a head start before she gets to me."

I stared at him in shock, "She wouldn't kill her own son."

If he even _is_ her son.

"For God?" he raised his eyebrows at me. "She might."

That made me think about how she had always taken me to church, how she had always taught me to pray and have faith in God. So? A lot of people are religious. A lot of people are extremely devoted. But, does she really kill people for God? Does she really think that's necessary? It made me feel sick and confused. It makes me feel as if my whole life has been a lie.

"So, now what?" I finally asked, after a long beat of silence. "Can you help me?"

"Look, I want to but-"

I cut him off, "But what? She's your _mother_- I'm your sister- supposedly," I said. "You have to help me."

He stared at me for a few long seconds, then said, "I'm not knowledgeable in the world of Jumpers and Paladins."

"You're better than nothing," I told him.

He sighed after a moment of thinking, then said, "All right, fine- I'll help you. I'll help Mom."

I nodded, genuinely smiling.

"Before we do anything though, I need to talk to Millie," he said. "Do you mind waiting down here?"

I waved it off, "I'm fine."

"You can help yourself to anything- the fridge is yours," he told me as he exited the kitchen.

Once he was upstairs though, I didn't want food or anything. I simply sat where I was, thinking.

My brother?

He was my brother?

It stunned me into stillness.

How had she kept this from me all these years?

How could this be possible?

I suddenly got really restless and anxious, so I got up and sat on the deck.

That's where I am now.

I lean my head against the railing beside me and close my eyes. David and Millie's voices grow quieter, until I can't hear them anymore. All I know is the sun warming my body, the rhythmic lull of the waves, the random call of the seagulls. It's all so nice and friendly, that I forget about the problems breaking into my life right now. I feel calm and peaceful and-

"Hey."

There's a hand on my shoulder, shaking me. Cracking an eye open, I see David leaning over me.

He smiles a little, saying, "You fell asleep."

I shake myself a little, "Oh." Rubbing my eyes, I say, "Sorry."

"No problem," he says with a smile, walking around me and down the stairs. "Ready to go?" he calls over his shoulder.

Because he isn't waiting for me, I scramble to my feet and hurry after him, carefully picking my way down the rock stairs, to the beach.

I ask, "Where are we going? I mean, what are we even doing?"

"Going to save Mom," he says, giving me a little smile over his shoulder.

I have to practically jog to catch up to him, and when I do, he's still walking extremely fast, in long strides.

"How are we going to save her?" I ask him, as we dodge an old couple under sun hats and sunglasses, sitting in chairs and snoring softly.

"Well," he begins, "since I don't know all that much about the current events of Jumpers and Paladins, we're going to visit a friend of mine."

My lip curls back a little, and I echo, "A _friend_?"

He nods, "Yep."

"And he lives under a pier?" I ask, as we near a tall, private pier.

"No."

I shake my head, "So, shouldn't we go to the car or something?"

He stops walking once we're under the pier, and stands behind a thick pillar. I stop and stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell he's doing.

"Well, he lives in Egypt, so, I'm pretty sure driving would be impossible," he says, looking around- to see if anyone's following or watching us, I assume.

My eyes sort of bug out of my head a little, and I sputter, "E-Egypt?!"

"Yeah," he turns back to me.

"How the hell are we going to get to Egypt?"

He simply says, "We're going to jump- You'll need to stand a little closer, and behind the pillar." He takes the tops of my arms in his hands and moves me easily, until I'm stumbling into the proper positioning for him.

"Why are we jumping under a pier?"

Seeming to be concentrating on something else, he says, "I've never jumped with you before- And besides, if I mess up the kitchen, Millie will kill me."

"So you're going to _jump_ me to Egypt?!"

My heart seems to be lodged somewhere in my throat.

David smirks, "Yeah."

"Is this _safe_?" I ask.

Shrugging, he says, "Pretty safe."

"Wha-"

"Give me your hand."

I clench my fists at my sides, staring at him defiantly.

"Do you want to save Mom or not?" he offers me his hand impatiently.

Her screaming is in my ears again, and I can just see the look of terror in her eyes as she yells my name from within the stranglehold of the Jumper.

Sucking in a breath, I say, "Fine. Let's do it."

He smiles and nods, taking my proffered hand.

"You might want to take a deep breath," he suggests, still smiling.

I do as I'm told, and then I'm being jumped.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Next chapter, a whole lot of Griffin!


	6. Griffin

**Chapter Five  
Griffin**

Being jumped is weird.

It feels like you're being pushed and pulled from all angles at once, and it lasts forever. But, really, it's over in a split second, and you wonder when and where it happened. One minute you're standing somewhere, and then you're somewhere else entirely. You feel the change in pressure and atmosphere- and everything moves in a whoosh of wind and dew and sand- and then it's as if you were in that place all along. Over the half second it took to jump from the beach to Egypt- _EGYPT?!_- I can feel David's hand in mine the whole time, and he squeezes it before we're disappearing and reappearing. For this, I'm strangely comforted and thankful.

When we're at our destination though, the difference and the shock of the jump makes me stumble backwards, and I let go of David's hand, my breathing picking up speed.

I manage to steady myself and put a hand to my chest, looking around.

We're in some kind of furnished, underground cave. There's an armchair and a TV set, with a video game console and some games scattered across the floor in front of it. There's a desk and papers scattered across it- drawings tacked to the rocky walls and lying all over the place. In a corner there's a mini fridge, with giant stacks of water bottles and sodas beside it. There's two metal cabinets with giant combination locks on them against the wall, and a bunch of complicated little gadgets scattered on a table beside it. Across the space is an incline, that leads up to opening that allows some darkened sunlight to slide in.

What is this place?

"Are you okay?" David asks, as I take in my surroundings.

I nod, continuing to look around.

He moves over to the table with papers and pictures scattered on it, and peers at them for a minute, saying, "Good. He's still here."

"Who's still here?" I inquire.

"Griffin," he says simply.

Glancing at the pictures- angry drawings of different people- I ask, "Your friend?"

He laughs a little, "Yeah."

I don't get the joke, but, really, I don't care.

"So where is he?" I ask. "What now?"

David looks around a little, peering through dark entryways, exiting the cave to peer into the sunlight, but he doesn't find anyone.

Instead, he says, "I guess he's out."

I stare at him, hardly believing he jumped me to Egypt and this guy is out.

"So now what?"

"We wait," he says, smiling. "You want a soda?" he asks, walking toward the mini fridge.

I just stare at him, give him a disbelieving, and not-at-all amused, smile and sit in the lone leather armchair.

Before I realize it, I'm sinking into the soft, worn, buttery material, curling up and leaning my head against the arm. And I can't help it, I'm falling asleep.

* * *

"What is _this_?" someone's shouting. "What the _fuck_ is this?"

"Griffin, listen-"

There's the sound of someone getting shoved, and I open my eyes, sitting up. The cave is lit only by the inside lights now, the sunlight that was allowed in has turned dark. David is standing diagonally from me, blocking the pathway to a shorter, wild-haired guy who's holding a grocery bag and some rope. This guy stares at me from around David's arm, looking livid.

I'm guessing this is Griffin.

He cuts David off and says, "Why the hell should I listen to you, eh? You leave me in a fucking electrical tower and I'm supposed to listen to you?"

I look at David, who only glances back to check my reaction.

"Look, I need your help-"

"What do you think this is, huh? Some kind of girlfriend nursery?" Griffin shouts, moving to put the grocery bag and the rope by the mini fridge.

I raise an eyebrow at this.

"Griffin, she's not-"

Griffin shrugs, "It doesn't matter to me who she is. Get out of my lair."

"Lair?" I can't help but reiterate, amused.

He gives me a dirty look and says, "Yeah, well, who asked you, girlie?"

"Girlie?" I ask, standing up. "Those are some strong words coming from a boy who's barely hit his growth spurt."

Griffin tries to make a dive for me, but David blocks him, "Can we be civil for five minutes, please?"

We both stand off. I cross my arms, looking at this guy with narrowed eyes.

"You left me for dead," Griffin says angrily, pointing his finger in David's face. "Don't expect me to do you any favors."

"Griffin, you were going to kill my girlfriend," David says tiredly.

I widen my eyes and look between both of them.

"She was in the way," the guy replies.

What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On.

"Look, I don't expect you to forgive me, but- I just need some answers," he says in return.

"Yeah, I'll bet you do, mate," he wipes at his chin with the back of his hand, eyeing me up with an annoyed expression on his face.

I roll my eyes at him.

"Two Jumpers kidnapped a Paladin last night," David says. "I need you to help me figure out who they were and where I can find them."

Griffin looks at David as if he's crazy, "What do I look like? Information?"

We both just stare at him.

"I don't know what every Jumper is doing at all times," he continues. "Both of you, piss off."

"Does he think it makes him look less like a twelve-year-old when he curses?" I mutter.

The guy makes a dive for me again, but David stops him, scolding me, "Sophie!"

"He's an ass hole," I say.

Griffin readjusts his leather jacket and says, "I could just jump past you and jump the little wench to Siberia if I wanted to."

Oh shit. I forgot about the jumping.

I just stare at him.

"Griffin, she's my sister," David says. "Please, just, ignore her."

I roll my eyes again, keeping my arms crossed and my guard up.

"Your sister?" Griffin sounds surprised and annoyed.

David nods, glancing back at me again.

"Why do you two need to know who these Jumpers are?" he asks.

I step forward, "Our mom is the Paladin."

Griffin stares at both of us for a minute, then laughs a little and says, "No shit?"

I curl my lip at him.

"And you guys want me to help you save Mummy-Paladin-Dearest?" he asks sarcastically.

"That's exactly what we want you to do," I say, moving up to stand beside David.

Griffin laughs again, "Not a chance."

"Why not?" I demand.

"She's a Pal-a-din," he says, as if he's speaking to a toddler.

I shake my head, "She's my moth-er."

"Yeah, well, we can't always keep our parents, can we?" he says, walking away to move to the table covered in drawings and sketches.

Staring at him for a minute, it all clicks together in my brain, and I say, "Look, I see you have some issues you need to work through, but right now my only parent could be getting tortured."

He doesn't even look at me.

"I'm guessing you have some vendetta and you need to kill these Paladins but-" I stop, because the tears are riding up my throat, making my voice quiver. "She's my mom."

Shit. I didn't want to start crying.

I swallow hard and try to compose myself.

He peers at me from over his shoulder, staring.

My nostrils flare as I try to breathe and not sob, my voice shakes by a will of its own as I say, "Please, just- help us as much as you can."

Griffin stares at me for a long minute, glances at David, and then looks at me again.

"She could already be dead, you know?" he tells me, but I can see he's got his foot in the door.

He's going to help us.

"Just help us find out whether she is or not," I beg him, all cockiness and sarcasm gone.

He sighs dramatically, as if this is tiring, and says, "I'll help you find out who has her, and where they are, but that's it," he says sternly, as my face lights up with a smile. "I'm not sticking around with you two."

"Thanks Griffin," David says.

Griffin just looks annoyed as he rifles through his pictures and papers, "Don't mention it. Ever."

I smile and look over at David, who nods to me appraisingly.

We might just be able to do this.

* * *


	7. Recognition

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for the reviews! I love them to pieces! Sorry it's been a while since my last update. I've had midterms this week and it's the end of the marking period so I was trying to bring up grades at the last minute and I've had college meetings and- argh. Long story short, I was very busy. Thanks for being so patient and sticking with the story! Hope you enjoy chapter six!

* * *

**Chapter Six  
Recognition**

"I don't know how I'm supposed to work with this!" Griffin shouts, throwing his arms up impatiently.

I roll my eyes, "Would you just shut up and show me another picture?"

"You're not going to recognize the bloody bloke on it anyway, so what's the point?" he counters.

From where he sits on a stool by the desk, David sighs.

We've been doing this for about a half hour- looking through Griffin's sketches and pictures of people and places- anything he could scrounge up. Some of them he says are Paladins, others are Jumpers he's encountered, a lot of them are dead, and some of them are mysterious people he can't identify. So the chance that I'll actually recognize one of them is slim to none. That probability is proving true, because I don't know any of these people.

"I'm trying, okay?" I reply indignantly. "Would you just- Just chill out and show me another one!"

He curses under his breath and rifles through his pictures, raising one up to show me from where I sit on the floor.

I squint at the picture. It was taken at a Starbucks, and it's of a guy talking on a cell phone. He's breaking a muffin apart in his hands, while holding the phone between his shoulder and cheek. His hair is graying, and he looks to be gaining a tire around his waist.

"No."

Griffin throws the paper to his side in frustration, and it sails down to the ground slowly.

"Who was that one?" David asks.

Griffin thumbs through the pictures and sketches, saying, "Some pain in the arse Jumper I met in Italy. He was trying to convince me to negotiate with the Paladins or share my gift to the world or some shit."

"What happened?" I ask, picking at my shoelaces distractedly.

"Last I heard, your mom had offed him," he says, looking up to give David and I a smirk each. I swallow.

He picks up another picture and shows it to me. This one is small and clear, taken of a young man walking out of a convenient store with foreign symbols on the awning of it. He's tall, and a little lanky, with unruly golden-brown hair and low-set, intense eyes. He's wearing dirty, scuffed jeans, a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, and tattered sneakers. In the picture, he's walking out of the store with two bags and cell phone clutched in his hand.

Something about this guy make me stare hard. The room seems to tense and shift as both David and Griffin wait for my response.

All of a sudden I can clearly see the scene in front of me. Mom, leaning back on the bed, a baton held in her hand- a baton with an electric wire shot out of it and into the big, dark-haired man's chest. A second guy runs forward with pliers to cut the first one free. I can see him clearly now. I can match the face with the photograph.

A small gasp emits from my mouth.

"What?" Griffin looks at the picture. "What is it?"

"That guy," I say, and in a flash, David is off the stool, kneeling beside me, a hand on my arm. "He was there."

"This kid?" Griffin asks, looking at the picture again, sounding surprised and annoyed.

At the same time, David asks, "Are you sure?"

I nod.

"He was helping another guy- He was like- Like a sidekick or something," I say.

Both David and Griffin stare at me.

I shout defensively, "He was just there- helping him."

"_Luke, now!_" the other man had shouted, pinning my mother down to the bed, and it makes me cringe as I remember it.

"His name was Luke," I say, uncrossing my legs on the floor and hugging them to me. "The other guy shouted at him before they disappeared."

Griffin stares at me, "This guy was one of the ones who kidnapped your mom?"

I nod.

"Why?" David cuts in. "Who is he?"

"A severe pain in the arse," he says. "He's a fucking slave to Knox."

I knot my eyebrows, "A slave to what?"

"Knox," Griffin replies. He shuffles through his papers and holds up a picture.

It's the other guy- the one who had been fighting and struggling with my mom.

I gasp.

"How do you know them?" David asks.

Griffin shrugs, "I was trying to track down a Paladin- a wanker called Finny- in Australia. This guy had been there when my parents died- had been the one to kill my dad- and I wanted to get him myself. Knox and his little tag-along kidnapped Finny before I could get to him."

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open a little.

"Yeah- I mean, we had a little battle over it beforehand- but he's got that little shithead helping him, so they managed to get away from me before I could get Finny myself," he shook his head, disgusted.

Swallowing hard, I ask, "Do you know what they did to Finny?"

Griffin shrugs, "I dunno- As far as I'm concerned he's still with them, or they killed him."

"Griffin," David says warningly, as if the guy should censor himself around me. David is kneeling beside me, he can definitely notice I'm shaking.

"What? I've never known a Jumper to track someone just so they could hang out!" he says defensively. "There's no reason they'd keep him alive."

I cut in, "Why didn't they just kill him, or let you kill him then?"

This makes Griffin stop, as if he hadn't thought about that.

"Maybe there's another reason they wanted him, and wouldn't let you kill him- Maybe they wanted him alive," I say.

David looks from me, to Griffin. He's waiting for the rebuttal.

Griffin doesn't say anything.

I barrel on, "If these guys kidnapped both Finny and my mom, then maybe they wanted them alive- for another reason than just killing them-"

"I don't think you get it, princess," Griffin says harshly, as if he can't stand that I saw a crack in his ideas. "Paladins _kill_ Jumpers. Mummy-dearest _kills_ Jumpers. A Jumper would not track and kidnap a Paladin without killing the bastard- at least, eventually."

Sucking in a quick breath, I ask, "So our mom could still be alive?"

Griffin stares at me, annoyed, "There's a slim chance."

"Where can we find Knox and Luke?" David asks suddenly.

"I'm not the All-Knowing, all right?" he counters. "Get another field guide."

I exchange an impatient look with David.

"Griffin, please, just- Where can we get information on these guys?"

"Another Paladin?"

An idea springs into my mind.

Sitting up a little on the floor of the cave-lair, I ask, "Do Paladins have a headquarters?"

"If I knew where it was, there'd be no Paladins left," Griffin replies, looking at me as if I've got twelve heads. "Look, I've been trying to find Knox and his crony for two years- You're not going to find them, or your mummy."

A spark of indignation flares and licks at my insides. I think of all the times I've repressed the want to talk back- all the times I've been the good little Christian daughter my mother wanted me to be- I think of all those times, and I push them aside. If I want to save her, I need to get the guts and continue to barrel on, talk back, and do whatever I need to do in the process.

"Listen, you want to get back at this guy for stealing your piece of revenge, right?" I counter.

He stares at me, and I take it as confirmation.

"Help us to find our mom, and you can get your revenge on this guy."

He continues staring, and then snaps, "And- what- have you got a plan or something, because I don't know what the hell we're going to do-"

"I have an idea," I say, causing David to look at me in surprise. "But you have to promise you're going to help us."

He thinks this over for a moment, glancing between me and David.

Finally, he says, "All right, fine- What have you got in mind?"

A smile spreads across my face and I ask, "First of all, what time is it in New York?"

* * *


	8. Separation Anxiety

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's taken so long to update! I've been extremely busy with school and such, but I hope this chapter finds everyone well! Thank you so much for the reviews, I adore them all! Hope everyone likes chapter seven!

**Chapter Seven  
Separation Anxiety**

It's been more than twenty-four hours since my mom was kidnapped by the Paladins, and I'm starting to feel the building pressure- the mounting need to get her back. If we don't meet a deadline, we lose her. When is that deadline though? And are we capable of meeting it? This is more pressure than any deadline I've ever had to meet before. This is not some physics project or English assignment. This is my mother- _our_ mother's life- and it's not something we can afford to lose. I'm not really discrediting my supposed brother, but David hasn't had Mom in his life since he was five- and I'm sure he's fighting to save her because of that and other conflicting emotions or whatever. But, I'm not a real adult yet- I'm not ready to live on my own and be that independent. I may be a technical adult, but I still need my mom. I love her and I need her, and I'm terrified of what could happen if our plan doesn't work out.

We go into action at around five o'clock in the evening- Eastern Standard Time.

First, David jumps us back to Cape Cod, and Griffin follows. After enduring a few comments ("You _would_ live in Cape Cod- pathetic!") from the Brit, David goes inside to quickly check in with Millie, and I retrieve my folder from the car.

When we're ready, we jump back home, and head into the kitchen.

It's strange to be in our house- it feels empty and wanting, and it makes my skin crawl and my stomach drop.

David insists on making us some real food, as I spread out the contents of the folder out on the counter in front of Griffin.

We have my letter, Tatiana's letter, some medical insurance cards, a copy of my birth certificate, my social security card, my passport, and the envelope of money. Griffin insists on knowing how much money is there, so I count it.

When I say the total aloud, he whistles.

"How much money did she leave for you?" David asks, turning around from the stove where he's making macaroni and cheese.

I raise an eyebrow, "I thought you were making _real_ food."

He just gives me a look.

"Twenty-thousand."

His eyes widen a little.

"Mom did not let you go uncovered, huh?" David says.

I shrug, staring down at the bills, quietly saying, "I guess not."

We all stare quietly at the money for a few minutes. It takes me a moment to take in the fact that this is _twenty-thousand dollars_- a whole lot of money. Where did she get it? Why did she think I would need it? I swallow hard and straighten the money into a pile again, sliding it back into the envelope. The whole time, my hands are shaking and my heart is beating resonantly.

Quietly, David turns back to the stove, and then starts going through cabinets and drawers.

"You know," Griffin says. "We could do some serious damage with that money."

I give him a hard look.

He puts his hands up defensively, "I was just saying is all."

I slide all of the papers and things back into the folder and shut it, putting it aside.

David puts a bowl full of macaroni in cheese in front of each of us. To me, he says, "Eat all of it."

I roll my eyes a little and say, "Thanks, big brother, but I'm not especially hungry right now," and I push the bowl away from me on the counter.

Griffin has already begun to dig into his meal.

Giving me a stern look, David pushes the bowl back in front of me, saying, "You'll need the energy- just eat it."

Sighing a little, I pick up the fork and eat a mouthful of the macaroni, turning to give him a look that asks if he's satisfies. He turns away slightly, eating his own meal, so I guess he is.

* * *

"You sure about this, Sophie?"

I look over at Tatiana's house- quiet and unassuming in the fading summer evening- and am suddenly made aware of how my body is shaking, how all of my limbs feel weak and my skin on-end, how my teeth feel itchy, how I'm clutching at my cell phone with sweating fingers- how I'm not sure if I can do what we've planned to do, all of a sudden- how I want to pull at my hair and scream. Despite all of this though, I nod.

Nodding- nervous as well- David says, "Okay, just- Just call my phone the second you can, okay?"

I nod wordlessly.

"You remember the plan, right?" Griffin cuts in from the backseat. "You're not going to screw it up and tell her that _mummy_ was kidnapped by Jumpers are you?"

Turning my head, I snap, "I'm not stupid, okay?"

He makes a face at me and turns to look out the window, "Oh God- Suburban Paladin," he groans, glancing at Tatiana's mini-van. "I'm going to be sick all over your car."

I scoff at him and turn away.

"You'll be fine," David says, and I look over at him. "This will work," he tells me, trying to boost my confidence- his voice is quavering and I can see the anxiety behind his eyes though.

I nod once more.

We stare at one another for a moment, so many unspoken questions and statements, feelings and worries, locked up within our gazes. This guy- this guy I hardly know- I suddenly want to spill my guts out to him. I want to ask him why this has happened? What will happen if we don't succeed in what we're trying to do? Why have I been lied to my whole life? And how is all of this possible? I want him to wrap me in his arms and tell me that Mom is safe, that there's no such thing as a Paladin or a Jumper- that life is what I always thought it was. I want my Mom- I want her here to explain to me that, yes, this is my brother, and I want her to explain why she left my dad eighteen years ago. I don't want to have to find all of these things out from files and strangers, and I don't want to know there's a risk that I'll never hear the truth from _her_. But no matter what we both want- what we both wish and hope- we know we're fighting the same fight, and that we've got each other. We're brother and sister- albeit, ones that have just met- and we're trying to save our mom. And that's what counts.

"You'll be fine," David says again.

When he leans across the console and hugs me, I actually hug him back. And it's nice to feel wrapped up and secure in someone's arms- even if I hardly know that someone, and even if it's only for a few short moments.

"All right, the family reunion needs to end."

I pull away from David and glare at Griffin in the back seat.

Giving me one last heavy look, David says, "Good luck," and I get out of the car, locking it behind me.

I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears as I walk up Tatiana's driveway and follow the walkway up to her front steps. When I turn, just before ringing the bell, I can see that David and Griffin are no longer in the car in the street, so I turn back and press the bell.

It only takes a moment before the door opens behind the glass one, and Tatiana is standing there, her curly, red hair up in a ponytail, and her whole face a little distracted.

"Sophie," she says, opening the glass door. "What are you doing here?"

Remembering exactly what we planned, I say, "I got into a fight with my mom."

"Your mom?" she reiterates.

I nod. "During dinner- It was over a boy and- I dunno- I just don't feel like being at home."

It's a little hard to talk about fighting with my mom- I mean, it's not something that's all that foreign- we're mother and daughter, we fight sometimes- but right now it almost hurts to think like that. I miss her so much and I regret every fight I ever had with her. For Tatiana though, my discomfort just looks like it was brought on by the fight, and so it works towards my advantage. She looks at me sympathetically and holds the door open for me.

"Come on in, honey."

I enter the house and immediately inhale the scent of cinnamon.

"Does your mom know you're here?" she asks over her shoulder, as we walk through the front living room, through the dining room and to the little kitchen.

I nod, "Right before I left, I shouted that I would go to your house."

"You both probably need time to cool off," she says once we're in the kitchen and she's bending down to open the oven door a little.

"What are you making?" I ask, trying to seem as casual as possible- as if I only just had a fight with my mom, nothing more.

She smiles at me as she closes the oven, saying, "Cinnamon-sugar cookies."

My stomach rejects this idea with a toss.

I say 'Mmmmmm' though, for effect.

"I'm going to wash up some dishes- do you want to go downstairs and hang out with Jonathan for a little?" she asks.

"Do you want any help?" I ask automatically- the politeness embedded into my DNA- and I glance at the dishes in the sink.

She smiles. "That's sweet, but you don't have to, honey. Jared will be excited to see you- go on down and watch some Spongebob with him."

I smile back at her- as much as I can force myself to anyway- and cross the kitchen to the open doorway that leads downstairs to the furnished basement. Lounging on the couch, with the remote in his hand, is Tatiana's son, Jared. He's a short and skinny kid, with thick, black-rimmed glasses and an affinity for wearing _Star Wars_ and _Lord of the Rings_ shirts. And when I enter the basement, he's watching Animal Planet, his mouth lolling open, and his eyes unblinking.

"Hey Jared," I say when I enter.

He looks at me, says, "Hi Sophie," and continues watching his show.

Sitting down on the couch as well, just beside his socked feet, I peer at the TV and ask, "What are you watching?"

"Top ten deadliest animals in North America," he says, his eyes never straying from the screen.

I look at the TV and attempt to watch the snakes they're talking about. But pretty soon I'm watching the screen and listening to the narration without actually seeing or hearing anything. Jared and I both just stare at the screen, hypnotized in two completely different ways. He, because he's so into what he's watching. Me, because I can't seem to focus on the show- because I'm too busy doubting myself and worrying whether I can do this or not.

On the screen, a cobra lunges at a wildlife expert's leg and the guy jumps away.

"Close one," Jared says.

Though I'm not sure if he's talking to me or himself, I nod slowly and sound, "Hmm."

* * *

Tatiana lets me sleep over, but it takes some convincing. First, she sits me down with some cinnamon-sugar cookies and milk, and makes me explain my fight with my mom. This takes some serious lying and some professional acting- for which I deserve an Oscar. I make up quite a story on the spot- about how Mom won't let me go out with some boy I like because he's an atheist. Tatiana, of course, agrees with my mom and asks me what I could possibly see in a boy like that? I produce some fake tears and say that I love him. Tatiana is startled, but she sets into motion, telling me that I need to make up with my mom- that she knows what's best for me. I tell her I'm feeling too confused and upset to go back home. "Honor thy father and thy mother, Sophie," she reminds me. I tell her that I know- I _know_- and that I just need some time away from Mom so I can figure out what to tell her about the boy and what I feel I need to do. Tatiana stares at me, as if measuring me.

"Please," I beg. "I just need to sit down and think- and maybe read a little- you have an extra Bible I could borrow, right?"

This makes her immediately jump into action, and within a half an hour, the couch in the basement is made up into a bed, and I have one of their spare Bibles in my hands.

"I should call your mom, Sophie-"

"No!" I shout, and she looks at me strangely.

I frown, "Please don't."

"Why not?" she asks, eyebrows knotted.

Shit.

"I just- I'm all confused and upset right now," I stumble over my words, failing at sounding convincing now.

She gives me a funny look, but grabs the cordless phone anyway and dials in our number.

She puts it on speakerphone, and I listen with a pounding heart as the phone begins to ring.

Shit.

_If you guys are at the house right now, don't answer. Don't answer and try to be an ass hole, Griffin. Don't answer because you think it's me and you're concerned, David. Just don't answer at all._

"You have reached nine-one-four-"

Tatiana talks over the operator's voice, "Huh. She must be in bed already."

At nine o'clock? Not likely- especially if I hadn't come home.

When the beep sounds, Tatiana leaves a message, saying, "Hi Mary, it's Tatiana. I've got Sophie over here and she's telling me you two got into a fight. She seems really upset and she's asking to stay over for the night. I don't mind at all, and I'm hoping it'll be good for the both of you." She sends me a smile. "I promise I'll keep her safe and send her home tomorrow, okay? Call if you need anything. Bye."

And she hangs up.

At a half an hour to ten, Tatiana, Jared, Tatiana's husband, Paul, and I sit around the living room. Tatiana has Jared read aloud from their Daily Devotion book, and I listen to him stumble over words and names, losing my patience with each syllable. I just want to rip it out of his hands and read it myself, but I keep my hands folded and try to smile pleasantly. When the time comes to discuss the Daily Devotion, I do so, but without feeling. If Mom and I were doing this, I'd think about the words we'd just read- I'd really talk about it with her. But right now, I can't even think straight, so I just have to fake it.

Luckily, Jared starts to get ready for bed after we've finished the Devotion, and I'm able to convincingly feign fatigue as well.

Tatiana lends me some sweats, and I lay down on the couch in the basement, waiting in the darkness.

I can hear Tatiana and Paul watching the news in the living room, and I know it'll be a few hours before they're in bed- asleep. So that means it'll be awhile before I'll be able to get out of bed and do what I need to.

There's no chance I'll be sleeping right now- I'm too pumped up on adrenaline- so, for the first time since this whole ordeal started, I fold my hands, close my eyes, and pray.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Keep in mind that I'm not trying to push any religious ideals onto anyone, nor am I criticizing any religions. Religion is just a big aspect of the Paladin theme, and a part of Sophie's life, so it is included. I hope nobody is offended. Let me know if you are.


	9. Prying

**Author's Note:** Sorry that it's been awhile between updates, I've been really busy as of late. Thanks so much for being patient and supportive- even when updates are sometimes far and few between. Here is chapter eight! Hope everyone likes it!

**Chapter Eight  
Prying**

"Sophie?"

"It's me," I hiss in the pitch black basement, still lying on the couch, only I'm back in my own clothes now. "I think Tatiana and her husband have been asleep for a few hours."

I hear Griffin say something in the background over the phone, and David ignores him, saying, "What are you going to do now?"

"Tatiana has an office," I tell him, my voice low and raspy in the absolute quietness of the house. "I know where she hides the key to it so I think I can get in and look around without anyone waking up- I'm going to try to find anything I can on the Paladins and if they have any kind of headquarters or contacts."

David asks, "What if she doesn't keep that kind of information around?"

"Tatiana keeps everything," I tell him, though I've worried about the very thing he's voiced. "It'll be fine."

He sounds nervous as he says, "All right. Be quick. Call me back when you can. And be careful, okay?"

"I will," I tell him quietly, and hang up.

Scrambling out from under the blanket on the couch, I shove my phone into my pocket, pull my Converse on, and creep up the basement stairs, feeling my way in the dark. I've never been in Tatiana's office, but I know it's hers alone, and I know it's always locked- I once tried to open the door, mistaking it for a closet full of board games when I was once baby-sitting Jared. So there must be things in there she doesn't want anyone seeing- Paladin things that are top secret and need to be locked away. This is the room I need- the top secret things are the things that are going to make it possible for me to save my mom. I hope.

The only light in the living room and dining room area comes from the kitchen, where the overhead light near the oven is on. Other than that, everything is dark and shadowed. I can just imagine myself bumping into the coffee table, falling over loudly, waking the whole house up and throwing the entire plan. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hold it in front of me and allow the blue-white light to illuminate my way through the living room and to the stairs, which I ascend as quietly as humanly possible.

When I reach the top of the stairs I stop, looking toward Jared's room and listening for any hint of movement or change. I find none, so I go up the next, shorter flight of stairs, stopping in front of Tatiana and her husband's room. Pausing for minute, I carefully take off my shoes and place them next to the door. Taking a deep breath, I put my hand on the doorknob and turn it painfully slow. Inching the door open, I wince as the hinge whines- almost inaudibly, thank God- and wait, listening for the sound of someone rousing in their sleep. When I'm only greeted by the sound of Tatiana's husband's snoring, I creep forward into the room, my socked feet padding silently against the carpeted floor.

Years ago, when Mom and I were at Tatiana's once for dinner, they were talking about keeping something from Jared. While my mom and Tatiana were in the kitchen, cooking and talking, they must have thought I wasn't listening from where I sat at the dining room table in the adjacent room, looking at a _Home & Garden_ magazine Tatiana had lying around. But I was listening- albeit idly.

"It's not like he's a bad kid- and he doesn't snoop around too often," Tatiana had said softly to my mother. "But I'm so worried he'll get curious and go into my office."

Mom reasoned by saying, "But it's locked."

"He knows I keep the key in my bedside table when I'm asleep," she sounded anxious.

After a moment, Mom quietly said, "You should buy a jewelry box with a false bottom- that's what I did- keep it under there, under necklaces and rings, for when you're asleep."

"That's genius, Mary!" Tatiana exclaimed with a smile.

That was when my mom still had to lock the door- when she knew curiosity couldn't keep me out. I must have been ten or eleven then, but I haven't forgotten about it. Probably because it always confused me. What keys did they have to hide? What was in their offices that they had to keep us away from? Now I know. They're keeping information from another world secret- they're keeping their hidden identities and occupations away from us. Mom didn't want me to find out she was a killer- didn't want me to find out there was a whole other world I couldn't even comprehend.

I don't know if Tatiana even followed my mom's advice, or, if she had, whether or not she still has the jewelry box after all these years, but it's worth a try.

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I see a jewelry box sitting on the vanity-dresser-combination set that is across from Tatiana and Paul's bed. I tiptoe over to the dresser and crouch over the wooden box, pausing again to listen for any disturbances. Hearing nothing, I ease the lid of the box back slowly, and peer into it. Underneath the handful of gold and silver bracelets and necklaces, I see a red velvet bottom. Moving the jewelry aside, I reach in and feel the tiny flooring. At one end my fingers come in contact with a small tab and I pull it back. There, resting on the wooden bottom, is a single key.

My fingers close around the key and I put the bottom back the way I found it, sift the jewelry around a little and lower the lid back into place.

Soundlessly, I hurry across the room and gently close the door behind me, pausing, yet again, to listen for any sounds of someone having caught me.

Confirming that I'm still in the clear, I let out a near breathless sigh of relief and cross the landing to the door of Tatiana's office.

I silently slip the key into the lock, turn slowly, and let myself into the room, pulling the key out and closing the door behind me with the softest of clicks.

Guided by the light of my cell phone, I immediately begin rifling through boxes, envelopes, shelves- anything I can get my hands on and return to its original position. But after twenty minutes, all I've scrounged up are a few files filled with profiles- much like the one I found of David in my mom's safe- of Jumpers. Is there a profile for Knox though? No, of course not. I don't have that kind of luck.

Almost unconsciously, I pull at the huge drawer of the desk, but it's locked.

This is probably what I need then.

Kneeling on the floor, I peer into the keyhole on the front of the drawer. It's kind of old-fashioned, so I'm sure I could pick it. Swiping a paper clip from Tatiana's desk, I unbend it and shove the end into the keyhole, fiddling it around, listening to the scrape of metal against metal. Finally, the end of the paper clip catches the lock, and it clicks, and I pull the drawer open freely.

Inside, there are a few folders filled with different envelopes, sheets I don't understand, pamphlets, maps, more profiles, pictures, etc. But there's also a planner. I snatch this out of the drawer and flip it open. Scribbled in the boxes- in neat, black cursive- are all of Tatiana's appointments and jobs.

_Jumpsites for McMann due._

_Alec Dwarn, NYC._

_Find out about Cross Station by Sunday._

_Meghan Train, London by 5._

_Jennifer O'Reilley, Duchess._

_Meeting with Mary and Joel on Robertson._

_Ian Grimley, Penn Station with Grady(?)._

My hands begin shaking as I look at the words before me. These people- these names and places- they're appointments for her to kill them. I mean, that makes sense, doesn't it? She's a Paladin and she kills Jumpers. I knew that, but it suddenly feels dizzying and too real for even me to take in after all of this. And the fact that my mom's name's in here- it makes me wince.

I feel like I'm going to throw up.

With shaking hands, I take a picture with my phone of her entire schedule for the entire month- just in case- and then flip through the pages.

A white card suddenly falls out onto my lap.

Picking it up, I see that there's a phone number written on it. When I flip it over, I see the black writing of a business card. I read over Tatiana's name, and the title of Research Consultant and Field Operative. Under this is her cell phone number and a landline. And then, under that, is an address in Washington, D.C.

I think we've found our headquarters.

* * *


	10. Dispersal

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! The reaction I'm getting for this story is great, and I'm so grateful that you're all sticking with it! Here is chapter nine! I hope you all like it!

**Chapter Nine  
Dispersal**

When I reenter our house in the last hours before early morning breaks, everything is quiet. I walk through the foyer cautiously, following the low murmur of the TV into the living room. There, I find Griffin lying on the couch, a bag of pretzels cradled at his side, a glass of water on the floor, and the remote clenched in his hands. He's fast asleep, snoring ever so slightly, his mouth lolling open. I roll my eyes, silently noting the fact that his shoes are still on and that the look about him is still smug- even though he's out cold. Sitting on the adjacent armchair is David, staring at the TV pensively, hands folded under his chin in a tense manner. Upon seeing me enter, he jumps up and all but pounces on me- grabbing my arms in his hands.

"You didn't call!" he scolds loudly, causing Griffin to grumble awake. "What happened? Did you find anything?"

I nod.

David demands, "What did you find?"

"What are you yammering about?" Griffin asks, his voice drugged with sleep.

We both ignore him.

"Did you find anything about Mom?" David asks, not waiting for me to say anything.

This makes Griffin sit up and stretch, joining us where we stand near the doorway of the living room. "Oh, girlie's returned."

Only giving him one cold glance, I turn to David and say, "I think I found the address for the Paladin headquarters."

This wakes Griffin up, and he demands, "Where is it?" at the same time David does.

"In Washington, D.C."

They're both ready to leave- right now- and I can see the adrenaline and challenge gleaming in their eyes.

"Let's go- let's go so we can get Mom-"

I cut him off, saying, "Actually, I think I need to do this alone."

Both of them stare at me for a good minute. Griffin is the first one to speak, and he angrily says, "_Excuse_ me?"

"Sophie, you're not doing this alone," David says, his voice low and serious. "This is _our_ mom- we're doing this together."

I bite my lip and shake my head, saying, "Neither of you can go with me."

"Why not? Suddenly you don't need our help anymore?" Griffin demands. "'ey, girlie, if you don't recall you were _begging_ me for my help not twenty-four hours ago."

Sighing, I say, "I know, and I'm not saying I don't need your help anymore-"

"Then what are you saying, Sophie?" David asks, slowly losing his patience. "Because I don't get it."

I'm about to respond, but Griffin cuts me off. "You said if I helped you find your mum than you would let me have Knox. Don't tell me you're turning back on your word."

Running a hand through my hair, I try to search for the right words. "I'm not going back on anything." I look at David pleadingly and say, "Listen, I can't take either of you with me. If I take him to the headquarters he'll go nuts and kill everyone in the building- and I'm not having that on my conscious, no matter what the Paladins do for a living. And you're already too well-known in the Paladin world for me to go with you."

"How do you know I'm known in the Paladin world?" David asks.

"Mom had a file on you in her office," I reply plainly. "You're a _Jumper_."

He looks away, troubled by this turn of events.

Griffin- who's begun pacing angrily- says, "You're not going to let me come with you because you don't want me to _kill_ the _Paladins_?!"

I stare at him.

"They're _Paladins_, you twit!" he roars, getting close to my face, clearly pissed off that the address for the headquarters is so close and I'm snatching it out of his reach. "They kill people- not kindly either- and you're going to save their arses?!"

I narrow my eyes at him and say, "Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Sophie," David says, turning around impatiently, rubbing his face.

"Get off your fucking high-horse, girlie!" Griffin shouts, still close to my face. "This isn't a game."

I glare at him. Doesn't he think I'm aware of that by now?

He shakes his head, glancing at David angrily. "They're killers. You're saving a lot of killers!"

"My mom was one of them," I finally shout back- right in his face too. "They could have families and friends and lives, Griffin! I'm not allowing you to kill people for your own selfish vendetta."

His eyes are bugging out of his head- like he can't believe what I'm saying so much that it's going to drive him out of his mind. "You're fucking joking. You've got to be fucking joking!"

Except I'm not?

"They don't care if Jumpers have friends or family- they just kill them anyway," he tells me, his breath rushing at my face- warm and pretzel-scented. "Mummy dearest doesn't give a flying fuck if I have parents or friends or a girlfriend or even kids. Mummy dearest will kill me anyway-"  
_  
SMACK!_

The slap is loud, and it echoes in the suddenly silent room, making me realize how harshly I'm breathing- how much I'm shaking with adrenaline and anger. I don't know why I did it either. Slapped Griffin, I mean. His words, his energy, his attitude, his beliefs- they all got to me. And the fact that he keeps saying my mom kills- that she would kill him despite him having a life of his own- it makes me nauseous and angry and it makes my head spin. My gut reaction was to hit him, but now I wish I hadn't done it.

He stares at me silently- shocked- his face slowly turning red.

"I'm sorry," I say plainly, my voice devoid of much regret.

He puts a hand to his cheek, looks at it, and then drops it to his side. "I'm not dealing with this shit," he says.

"No!" I say quickly, because I know he's going to jump away. "Look, I'm sorry- I wasn't thinking."

He stares at me, and I feel David's eyes on me too.

"I understand these people kill- that they'll kill you- but I can't be responsible for leading you to them," I tell him, my voice sincere and pure. "I couldn't live with that."

He clenches his jaw.

"Let me go by myself," I say, looking at David, and then back to Griffin. "I'll go- I'll find out where our mom is, and then you can have Knox all to yourself."

Griffin's voice is deep and raw when he asks, "What if that's not good enough for me anymore?"

My heart thuds in my chest. "I'm sorry-"

"What if I don't care about Knox as much as I care about wiping out every fucking Paladin I find?"

I swallow, softly saying, "I can't keep you here."

He stares at me.

"If you won't let me go to Washington alone, then I won't ask you to stay," I say, knowing this is a losing bet.

Griffin shakes his head subtly, glancing at David, then looking back at me, saying, "See ya," before he jumps away.

"Sophie," David voices. I look at him, waiting for him to say something more, but he doesn't.

I shake my head, "I couldn't listen to him talk about Mom like that- not when she could be...." I trail off.

The end of the sentence hangs in the air.

_Not when she could be dead._

Suddenly, my eyes are burning and my throat is tightening. I blink furiously, but the onslaught of tears is too much to push back. I'm tired and I'm wrought with every kind of anxiety and pressure there is, and it's finally getting to me. I need to break a little.

David sees my eyes fill up and he looks panicked. "She's fine. We're going to find her and she's going to be fine."

I shake my head, unable to say anything with my throat so tight. Lowering myself onto the now vacated couch, I press my hand to my mouth and suck back a sob.

After a moment, David sits down beside me, hesitantly putting an arm around me. I crumple into his embrace, my body heaving with sobs of exhaustion and fear.

"I'm scared," I manage to say.

And I know David feels the same way, because he holds me tighter and says nothing.

* * *

I wake up on the couch, with one of Mom's throw blankets over me. For a moment I don't know where I am, or how I got here. I wonder why I'm sleeping on the couch at all- why my mom put the blanket over me. And then I feel my face, stiff with dried tears, and I remember falling asleep in David's- my brother's- arms, crying, unsure if we would be able to find our kidnapped mother. _It might be too late_, I remember thinking. As the realization hits me, I sit up quickly and look around. Someone's in the kitchen- David. I can hear him moving around, opening and closing the refrigerator and different cabinets, putting a pot down or picking a pan up. Looking towards the clock on the mantelpiece, I see that it's a little after eight o'clock, and I leap off the couch.

Running into the kitchen and stopping at the doorway, I glare at David and demand, "Why did you let me sleep?!"

He looks at me calmly, gathering bread and cheese and other things on the counter. "We've both kind of had a crazy couple of days. You needed it."

"Yeah, but we don't have _time_-"

"You're going to be useless if you're dead on your feet," he tells me.

I glare at him angrily.

Rolling his eyes a little, with a rueful smile playing against his lips, he says, "We have plenty of time."

No we don't. I have so many things to plan and figure out-

"Your train leaves at ten."

This makes me look at him sharply. "What?"

"That train station in the next town over," he says, going to the refrigerator and taking out some butter. "There's a train leaving for Penn Station at ten, from there there'll be a train for D.C."

He's- He's done all the planning for me. I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. I want to say something- to make some kind of sound- but I find that I'm incapable of this. I just manage to stare at him as he moves around the kitchen.

Finally, I manage to close my mouth and swallow, saying, "You- You figured everything out?"

He looks back at me and smiles. "We don't have much time," he replies, practically feeding me my own words. "Now go shower and change or whatever you have to do. I'll have breakfast ready when you get out and then we can get everything together that you need."

A wave of relief and gratefulness washes over me and I pull at the hem of my shirt, suddenly feeling awkward. "Thank you," I say finally. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

He smiles over at me, shrugging and saying, "That's what family's for." After another beat, he says, "Go get ready- short on time, remember?"

"Right," I say, and flee the kitchen.

* * *

David parks along the sidewalk outside of the old-fashioned, small town train station. He turns the car off, but neither of us moves to get out. While David plays with his keys, I cough and look out the window. My stomach is knotting uncomfortably, and I feel unsteady- as if I'm balancing on the edge of something. Suddenly, I'm terrified of getting on that train- terrified and completely unprepared to face a world and force that I can't even comprehend- and my body is glued to the passenger's seat.

Lifting his head, David peers out of his window. He sighs a little and then turns to me, saying, "It's not too late for me to get a ticket and go with you."

Numbly, I shake my head.

"You don't understand what you're dealing with," he says, turning toward me further, suddenly passionate. "I've dealt with these people before- I can help-"

Before he can finish his thought though, I'm climbing out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and starting toward the station. I'm afraid that if I listen to David for a moment longer, I'll surrender this whole thing over to him, and I refuse to allow myself to abandon my mother and risk my brother's (this complete stranger's) life like that. And he will definitely be killed or imprisoned or- God knows what!- if I even let him go with me. So I cross the sidewalk and bound up the two steps that lead to the station.

"Sophie!" David's calling, and I hear him rushing up behind me as I walk around the building, to the platform raised above the tracks in the back.

I stop and wait, ignoring the people seated on benches and standing along the platform, waiting for the same train as I am.

"Sophie," David says, and he finally reaches me, standing in front of me so I have to look at him. "What was that about?"

I shake my head, rubbing my face and looking away from him. "I'm just nervous and- frustrated." He nods and looks down the tracks. "It's not that I don't want you to come with me to Washington- I definitely want help- but," I lower my voice, "You're a Jumper- Paladins kill Jumpers, and I'm not going to get you killed because I showed up at your house two days ago and unloaded all of this on you."

"It's not like that-"

"Either way? You're safer not coming with me. And I'll need your help when I get out of Washington- when I find out where Mom could be," I tell him.

He nods again and then thinks for a minute. He screws up his face a little as he says, "It's just dangerous stuff- I know that for a fact- and I don't want you to have to go at it alone."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be fine," I tell him, though I'm not entirely sure about that.

"You sure you don't want me to just jump you to D.C.? I could hang out at the Washington Memorial and wait for a call," he suggests with a rueful smile.

I shake my head and smile too, saying, "Really, I'd rather you stayed out of the capital at all."

He rolls his eyes a little.

"Go back to Millie and your little beach house," I tease him. "Tell her I'm sorry for stampeding into your like this- and keep your phone on."

Suddenly everyone's standing and moving closer to the edge of the platform, and I hear the train coming.

"Call me if you need anything- _anything_- you got that?"

I nod.

"I can be anywhere in a second," he reminds me, smiling.

"I know."

We stare at each other awkwardly as the train screeches into the station.

David takes a step forward and gives me a hug, saying, "Be careful, will you? I always wanted a sibling and I'd like to enjoy it a little longer."

I pull away and laugh, saying, "I'll try."

As people begin boarding the train I pull out my ticket and begin walking over.

Just before I get on- as an afterthought- I turn and call, "I'm sorry I slapped Griffin."

He laughs, "Don't worry about it- he can be a jerk."

"But he was our help-"

David waves my words away with a look of slightly forced nonchalance, and I'm being pushed onto the train before I can reply.

* * *


	11. Convincing Roland

**Chapter Ten  
Convincing Roland  
**

The Paladin headquarters is not what I thought it would be. From outside, it actually looks like a high-end apartment building- unassuming where it stands, camaflouged to anyone who isn't looking for it. The only difference between it and other luxury apartment buildings, is that it doesn't have an awning- or even a name- out front. There's no doorman or anything, and the front door is heavy and black, its windows frosted and impossible to see through. Shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun, I peer up at the windows. They're all frosted too- even the ones at the very top- and they seem to have have blinds behind them. Flicking my eyes back to the front door, I stare at it carefully. The handle to open the door is modern- heavy and thick. Briefly, I wonder if it's open. But then I notice the keypad and intercom beside the door, and I know it's not going to be open.

I'm so confused by the whole set up- and so worried that it's not the real headquarters- that I walk past the building a dozen times, checking and rechecking the address written on the crumpled paper in my hand, hoping that I haven't screwed this up hugely.

As I turn on the sidewalk and start to pace again, a mailman walks by me and looks at me a little strangely. He must have noticed that I've been pacing.

With my heart still beating frantically in my chest, I cross the street and sit on a black, metal bench on the sidewalk.

I pull out my phone with shaking fingers and flick through my recent calls, hitting SEND when I see David's number.

He answers on the first ring. "Sophie. What's going on?"

"I'm across the street from the building," I say, my voice almost a whisper.

"What are you going to do now?" he asks, immediately apprehensive.

I shake my head and swallow, saying, "I don't- I don't know."

"Do you want me to-"

"No," I cut him off. "I just need to think for a minute."

Staring at the building for a long moment, I pull out the scrap of paper that has all of the information from Tatiana's business card scribbled onto it.

After staring at the writing for a moment, I realize David is saying my name.

"What?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to come there?" he asks. "I can get there in a second."

I shake my head saying, "No, I think I know what I need to do."

"What?" he asks. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll call you back," I say, and hang up before he can finish his objection.

Sitting with the phone in my hand for a moment, I stare across the street at the building, really thinking about what I'm doing- about what I'm getting myself into. I'm, essentially, throwing myself into the lion's den. If these people find out that I'm just screwing with them, I'm in deep shit. I mean, if they really do kill, who's to say they won't kill me just for lying to them- even if they don't know the reason? I know, logically, I could just go to these people and tell them that my mom's missing- go to Tatiana and have her enlist their help- but I know that if I do that there's a chance my mom will die in the hunt for more jumpers. And what about my brother? I can't very well ditch him like that. Besides, I decided I was going to do this on my own- as much as possible, anyway- and I'm not turning away from that decision now.

But, Tatiana works with these people- am I really stupid enough to go straight into a building she could very well be in?

Sighing, I flip the phone open again. Obviously I am that stupid.

Quickly- before I lose my nerve- I punch in the number from Tatiana's business card- minus the extension- and I put the phone to my ear, trembling as I wait for someone to answer.

"P.D Headquarters in Washington, D.C.," a man's voice answers. "This is Oscar, how may I help you?"

Fumbling over something to do for a brief moment, I finally clear my throat and manage to say- in a wobbly and unpracticed British accent- "I'm hoping I have the right number- is this the headquarters for the people who kill jumpers?"

"Excuse me but, who is this?"

"My name's Stephanie," I find myself saying. "I was looking to help you guys."

There's a pause from Oscar, and finally, he says, "Let me connect you to someone more equipped to help."

I don't say anything, waiting as the line goes silent, breathing deeply, trying to keep myself under control.

After a long minute, another voice comes on the line, saying, "Roland."

"Yes, hello," I fumble, remembering my faux accent just in time. "My name is Stephanie and I'm looking to help you- you, as in Paladins- with killing jumpers."

"_Excuse_ me?" the voice says, sounding both incredulous and annoyed.

I take in a shaky breath and ask, "I'd like to be a volunteer."

"Who are you?"

"Stephanie."

There's a pause, and then: "And what are you to me, _Stephanie_? Why should I take you on as a Paladin volunteer?"

"I-I'm just- I'm willing to help, Mr. Roland," I stammer, my accent slipping in some places. "Don't you need help?"

"From an anonymous caller that could very well be a jumper herself?" he counters, giving me a short laugh. "I don't think so."

Knowing he's about to hang up, I shout, "Please!"

There's silence, but I can tell he's still on the line. Staring blinding at the road in front of me, I rack my brain for something to convince this guy- something to make him trust me and put me on his team.

"Look," I hear myself saying, wringing dry every piece of information David or Griffin gave me in the short time I've known them. "Just meet with me- Let me prove myself!"

There's silence on the line, and I'm so afraid he's going to deny me, and visions of my mom, killed, tortured, hurting, in trouble, fill up my brain and make my stomach swirl with nausea.

"Please," I beg of him, the desperation clear in my voice. "_Please_, just meet with me so you can see for yourself that I'm being true."

After another long beat of silence, he sighs, and says, "Fine, but we're meeting in a public place- and I'm bringing every kind of back up I can get. Do you hear me?"

My heart is thumping in my throat, but I feel relieved as I say, "Yes, that's fine- Thank you."

"Meet me at the Thomas Jefferson memorial- Wear a white ribbon, " he says, his voice a little smug. "Half an hour."

And suddenly, the line is dead.

* * *

Within a half hour, I'm sitting on the steps of the Thomas Jefferson memorial, looking over the water across the way. I've got a cheap, drug store white-ribbon-hair-clip stuck on the collar of my shirt and jitters that could probably shake the Empire State Building. The anxiety of the situation is getting the better of me- even more so as the time to meet this Roland guy draws closer- and I stand up suddenly, wringing my hands and biting my nails in intervals, unable to enjoy the glimmering water or the beautiful pink trees along the water's edge.

"Excuse me."

My heart catches in my chest, and I turn to see a man standing a few steps below me. He's tall- massive in comparison to me- with dark, dark skin, laser-like eyes, and white hair. He's dressed in an unassuming gray turtleneck sweater, a black jacket, and black pants, with a bag in his hand. I'm sure this is my Paladin, but then I notice that he's holding a camera out to me, and I feel my face fall in disappointment.

"Would you mind taking a picture for me?" he asks.

I look around, to see if anyone's approaching me. No one is, and every particle of my personality is etched with people-pleasing tracks, so I smile shakily at the man, take the camera, and wait for him to climb up a few steps and pose before the memorial.

As I aim the camera at him, he asks, "So, what brings you to D.C.?"

Snapping the picture, I hand the camera back to him and shrug, saying, "Here to see the sites."

He nods, "Ah." Then he looks down at the camera, and hands it back to me, "Mind taking another? I don't think you got my good side."

This guy's joking doesn't sound funny or nice- it sounds perverse and creepy- but I force a smile and take the camera again, aiming it at him once more.

"Where are you from?" he asks as I snap another picture.

I hand the camera back to him again and find myself saying, "England."

"No accent?"

"I try to use it as little as possible," I say with the accent and an uncomfortable smile. "Don't want to attract attention."

He nods, "That's good." Gesturing at me, he asks, "What does the ribbon mean?"

"Decoration," I reply, looking at him skeptically.

"It isn't because I asked you to wear it?" he presses.

I reply, "That depends who you are."

"Roland," he says.

My paladin.

I nod, "And I'm Stephanie."

He nods too and says, "So, Miss Stephanie, I have a few questions for you."

"All right."

"First, I'd like to know who you are and where you're really from," he says, his eyes searing straight through me- as if he knows every lie I've told him so far.

Swallowing, I reply, "I'm Stephanie..... Stephanie Walter- and I'm from London, England."

He eyes me suspiciously, but then moves on, asking, "And how did you come to learn about Paladins and Jumpers, Miss Walter?"

I falter at this.

Think, Sophie, think!

"At college," I find myself blurting.

Roland looks startled by this, and he says, "Excuse me?"

"I mean- No," I stammer. "I'm taking a class on religion and I became close to me professor and she knew- through family experiences or something- and she told me. I don't know how she had your address and number, but she gave it to me."

"What is your professor's name? And what college?"

I stare at him, then say, "I'd rather not say- I'd like to protect her, if it's all the same to you, sir."

He stares at me impatiently- annoyed- for a minute, and then says, "Fine." Cracking his neck briefly, he then asks, "And why are you so desperate to help us, Miss Walter? Surely a girl like you doesn't want to get into our business?"

"Mr. Roland," I say, recalling the speech I've been thinking over for the past thirty some-odd minutes. "I've never liked people who have God complexes," I recite, my voice shaking underneath my words. "Isn't that what Jumpers are- people who think they can do what only God should do? Blasphemous monstrosities?"

He stares at me for a long moment, as if seeing me for the first time.

"How do I know you're not just feeding me what I want to hear?" he asks. "How do I know you're not really a jumper yourself?"

"Why would I want to help you if I was a jumper?"

He eyes me suspiciously again.

After a moment he asks, "You're willing to kill these people?"

I think of David. David at his house by the beach with Millie.

"Yes," I say, feeling how wrong the sentiment is- feel it to my very core.

Roland looks out over the water for a few minutes, making me stand there beside him, waiting in a horribly unbearable silence.

Finally, he turns to me and says, "Fine, Stephanie Walter. Let's test just how loyal you are."

His words make my heart sink, but I follow him anyway as he descends the steps of the memorial.

* * *


	12. Intake

**Author's Note:** I apologize that it took so long to update this! My summer was hectic and I was pretty preoccupied with other stories, and the school year has been crazy so far! Thanks to everyone who waited so patiently for this chapter and has stuck with this story throughout the long wait! I hope you like chapter eleven!

**

* * *

****Chapter Eleven  
Intake**

Roland takes me back to the Paladin headquarters, where I have to go through a security checkpoint before he brings me downstairs in an elevator and puts me in a plain, gray cinderblock room with a metal table and chairs. He tells me to sit down- which I do- and leaves me in the room by myself. I don't know if I'm being watched or listened to in this empty room- don't know how Big Brother these Paladins are- so I resist the urge to pull out my phone and tell David that I'm inside the headquarters. So, I sit with my hands folded in my lap, studying the faint cracks and bumps in the walls, reminding myself to breathe and _not_ throw up.

Suddenly, the door slams open, crashing against the wall so loudly that I jump in my seat. Roland strides back into the room, followed by a short guy with dark hair and glasses, who's holding a case in hand.

"Stephanie Walter, this is Booth," Roland introduces, standing beside the table, staring down at me. "He's here to take your finger prints."

My hands squeeze around one another. "Why?" I find myself asking, my throat suddenly dry.

Booth puts his black case on the table and opens it, revealing a closed ink-pad and a few cards.

"Precaution," Roland says, smiling at me slightly. "Is that a problem?"

I shake my head wordlessly- unsure of how I could possibly get out of this- and give Booth my hand when he asks for it. I'm shaking as he presses each of my fingers against the ink and then prints them against different cards- a sudden and lethal fear gripping my heart and throat. Roland stands over us the whole time- watching me like some kind of hawk- so I try to keep my demeanor unbothered and cool. If I want to play the part I need to look as innocent as possible. I'm Stephanie Walter. I'm not trying to infiltrate the Paladin headquarters for my own personal agenda. I want to be a Paladin. I want to kill jumpers. It all leaves a foul taste in my mouth, but I swallow it down and endure it, until Booth is finally finished, and he leaves the room wordlessly.

Roland sits on the edge of the table when we're alone and leans down toward me, asking, "How are you doing, Miss Walter?"

"Fine, thanks," I reply, still using my hokey English accent. But I'm not fine. The way Roland keeps saying my fake name, and the way he looks at me, keeps convincing me that he's figured me out- that he's just dragging this out and mocking me as a form of torture for screwing him over. But I know- regardless- that I have to remain cool. I'm _not_ guilty, I have to remind myself.

"Changed your mind about anything?" he asks, his voice soothing and calm.

I shake my head, confident now- thinking of my mom, held captive or killed by jumpers- and I say, "Not at all."

Roland's lip twitches at this, and he pauses. Then, smiling calmly, he asks, "How well do you know your Bible, Miss Walter?"

"Excuse me?" I sputter, before I can check myself.

"Your Bible," he says, his voice hard.

I shake my head. "I know it cover to cover," I tell him.

"How about a little pop quiz then?" he suggests.

I stare at him, and hear myself weakly saying, "Sure."

* * *

He asks me biblical questions for more than forty-five minutes- simple at first, and then mind-achingly difficult. And if I hadn't been raised by my mother I wouldn't have gotten them all right- but lucky for me I've been raised on Bible verses and stories and they're permanently set into my brain. Roland sees this, and he seems both impressed and annoyed. Maybe he was hoping to catch me at fault- try to prove that I don't know who Adam and Eve are- but he's failed, and I feel my confidence bolster. I'm a step closer to getting inside the Paladins' world and we both know it- here in this empty, gray room.

Roland stares at me for a long while, and I don't falter under his eyes now- I'm saving my mother, I'm in the right here, and I didn't get any of those questions wrong, which makes me feel increasingly innocent- but his staring is interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in," he calls, only tearing his eyes from mine when Booth reenters the room.

I suck in a breath then, remembering the fingerprinting.

Roland asks, "Anything?"

"She's good," Booth says, handing Roland a manila folder.

Relief blooms in my chest, and Roland looks from the folder, to me. Without opening it to check if I really am 'good,' he thrusts the folder back at Booth and dismisses him.

He waits for a long moment before he says, "So, you've checked out, Miss Walter."

"I didn't have any doubts," I say, though I can detect the slight trembling of my voice.

He stares at me for a minute, and then says, "Let's see just how long that lasts." Getting up and going to the door, he turns and, as an afterthought, says, "Follow me."

Standing up on weak legs, I follow him out of the room and down the outer corridor. We walk through the underground, cinderblock maze, to the elevator we came down in. Once inside, Roland hits a button for the fifth floor and pulls out a cell phone in one swift motion.

"Lennox," he barks into the phone. "Roland. I'm bringing up a possible recruit, be ready in five," and he hangs up.

We pass the second floor and stand in awkward silence, the dinging of the elevator breaking up our solitude.

"Ready for an interview, Walter?" Roland asks.

I look over at the massive man beside me, trying to seem serene. Nodding, I say, "Whatever you need, sir," calmly, though I want to run out of this building screaming.

Roland laughs a little to himself and looks ahead as the elevator stops, and he says, "Your optimism is unfailing."

"Why shouldn't it be?" I reply, trying to sound light and carefree.

He just shakes his head and exits through the doors as they open, and I tag along like a puppy.

Right outside of the elevator is another security checkpoint. Once again, I'm patted down and searched thoroughly. They've gone way past intrusive and are bordering on down right invasive of my privacy, but I don't object. These people need to think that whatever they do is okay by me- they can do no wrong. I need to get them good and comfortable with me so I can do what I need to do to save my mom. So I let them check for wires under my shirt and in the waistband of my jeans, and I let them take my phone out of my pocket.

But when they take it and put it in a clear plastic box and shove it under a desk I object before I can stop myself. "Hey!"

They guards are unhindered, but Roland looks over at me, amused. "Something wrong, Miss Walter?"

I realize what I've done and feebly say, "My phone...."

"Standard procedure," he replies. "Security code. You'll get it back."

I look at the desk worriedly as the guards swipe a metal detector over my body.

"Don't worry," Roland says teasingly. "We're not going to read your texts."

I'd punch him in the face _right now_ if I could.

Finally, the guards step back from me and Roland gestures down a hall, saying, "Shall we?"

I follow him- because what else can I do?- and pass doors with plain nameplates on them. For a minute, I almost feel as if I'm in a doctor's office or a regular office building- everything looks so _normal_ and safe- and it's hard to believe that the people running this show kill others who can teleport. It's hard to wrap my head around any of it really. I'm just going with the flow, rolling with the punches, diving in head first, and once I know that my mom is safe or not, I'll pause to take a breath and digest everything.

We stop at a door near the end of the hallway. It has a nameplate on it that reads: Dr. H. Lennox. Roland knocks twice and then opens the door, gesturing for me to step inside. I do, and I enter into a bright, white office, it has sharp-angled furniture and little or no personal touches. There is a Bible on the desk beside a computer and a shimmering diamond cross between two sets of massive windows, but other than that, it's pretty bare.

"Lennox, this is Stephanie Walter," he says, introducing me to the thin, middle-aged blonde woman that looks at me from behind the massive desk. She's lanky, with wrinkled eyes and big, thin lips. She looks over at me self-consciously- awkwardly- and gives me a wavering smile. "I need a standard cross-ex. She wants to join the ranks."

Dr. Lennox nods and says, "No problem."

"If she clears you can hand her over to Marijke when you're through," he says, and he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Dr. Lennox relaxes a little and her smile untightens. "Have a seat Miss Walter," she says, and I sit across from her, in a big, hard green armchair. "I'm Doctor Lennox and I'm just going to be asking you some questions- psychological testing, standard procedure."

Then it hits me. This woman must be a doctor of _psychology_- does that mean she'll be able to read my lies?

'That's fine," I reply calmly, trying to embody this innocent, Paladin-admiring Brit.

"Great," she says, opening a folder to look down a list of some kind. Looking back up at me, she asks, "Where were you born?"

Crap.

* * *

Dr. Lennox seems all nervous smiles and meekness, but she's not. Behind all that is this interrogative ferocity- this ability to attack, pillage, and conquer- and I feel like she's drained me dry. God knows- no pun intended- how long we've been sitting here, with her questioning me like some kind of quasi-criminal. She's asked me questions on a strange and vast variety of things. Favorite color and why? What was your father like? What does it feel like when you pray? What are your specific religious beliefs? And I've tried to answer the questions as best I can. I made up this whole world for Stephanie Walter and I only hope I've kept my facade up while doing it- because honestly, I feel as if it's slipping. And I know that if my mother's safety wasn't hinging on my ability here, I'd just throw in the towel now. _I lied. I'm using you. Lock me up or let me go, I don't care. I give up._ But I don't- I _can't_.

"I only have one more question for you," Dr. Lennox says, and I have to hold myself back from sighing in exhaustion and relief- but then again, this could mean she only has one more question because I've already failed so horribly. "Are you willing to kill for God?"

This stops me in my tracks.

In history we learn about the inquisitions, of the witch trials and all that- and we've always been taught that religious intoleration is wrong. Mom never raised me to want to kill. She never spoke badly of other people's religions- she was never even unkind to straight-up atheists. But according to David, Griffin- according to the very core of the Paladin belief- my mother killed for God. Apparently she killed people who had a power she thought went against God. Do I agree with that idea? Do I think it's okay to kill people just because they might go against God's image? That's not for me to say. That's not my choice. I _know_ I don't have that authority.

Am I willing to kill for my mother's safety though?

"Yes," I finally say to Dr. Lennox. "Yes I am."

She watches me for a long moment, staring me straight in the eye, and then- without breaking eye contact at all- she smiles and leans sideways. After she pushes a button on her phone, the dial-tone sounds in the room, loud and stale. She presses another button, and there's dialing, and then ringing.

After a moment, a woman's voice sounds on the line- strangely accented and all business. "Hallo?" she says.

"I've got a new recruit for you, Marijke," Dr. Lennox says, her smile still pressed against her lips and in her eyes. It's almost like she's _proud_ of me. "I'll bring her up now."

"Great, see you then," she replies, before the line clicks dead.

Still smiling- practically _beaming_ with pride- Dr. Lennox says, "Welcome aboard, Stephanie."

I let out a breath in extreme relief and manage a smile, because I'm one step closer to figuring out where to find my mom- I'm one step closer to getting this right. 


	13. Electric Twist

**Author's Note:** The excuses for not updating this are as follows: I graduated high school, started college, was focusing on a lot of other stories, I've been working, and I've also been trying to have a social life. But here is an update- finally. I've read Gould's novel_ Griffin's Story_, but in that Griffin is American and that's different in the movie so I'm making Griffin's story semi-different in this fic. Hope nobody minds too greatly. Also, hope you all enjoy it!

**Chapter Twelve**

**Electric Twist**

When Griffin goes to Bristol he jumps right into a puddle that soaks half of his pantleg. He swears loudly and stumbles away from it, shaking out his soggy sneaker as he regains his balance. A dog barks nearby and he suddenly remembers to be on guard again, and he looks around nervously. A woman is just getting groceries out of her car nearby and a truck is turning a corner up the street, but other than that, everything is quiet and calm. He checks over his shoulder once before stuffing his hands into his pockets and heding down the drastic slope of the hill, going toward home.

He's not sure why he's back here. He shouldn't be, he knows. After his parents were killed he jumped away quickly. He didn't need the police taking him in and handing him over to his bitch of an aunt or to some fucked up foster parents. He didn't need anyone. He could handle everything well enough on his own. And he has, so far. He went to Egypt and found a lair to protect himself and he set out to kill ever goddamn Paladin he came across. Aside from the slight wrench in his plan- also known as David Rice- he's been doing pretty well for himself.

But now there's this girl. Barely nineteen. Messy brown hair. Tiny little thing. Skinny enough to break. And she wants to play both sides. She doesn't want to hurt anyone. She just wants to save mum and live happily ever after with Paladin mummy and Jumper brother. She wants to tralala along, believing in God and thinking things have happy endings.

This makes Griffin laugh to himself.

This is real life, he thinks. There are no happy endings, sweetheart.

And as much as she drives him crazy, withholding the address of the Paladins' headquarters he can't help feeling bad about something.

Without warning, he sees the sad look on her face when he said 'See ya' and jumped away. He sees the anger burning behind her eyes as he dragged her mother through the proverbial mud. He still feels the sting of her slap just underneath his eye. He sees her surrounded by a dozen Paladins who have found out her plan and are going to kill her now, not caring whose daughter she is or what she believes or what she wants out of life.

Serves her right, he thinks to himself.

There's another family living in his old house. As he walks past he sees a little boy playing on the lawn, jumping around with a dog on a leash.

Griffin ignores the lump that rises in his throat.

He sees his mom laying at the bottom of the stairs at an odd angle, he sees the blood soaked through her clothes. He sees his dad with his eyes still open, though all the life is gone from behind them.

Griffin presses at his eyes and walks on.

Inexplicably, he sees Sophie lying on a cold cement floor, blood pooling around her, her eyes lifelessly open.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself.

_We don't save the girl._

Maybe we do this time, he reasons.

"Fucking hell," he says again, and then, before he can convince himself otherwise, he's jumping back to New York.

* * *

I'm sitting on the beach behind David's house- my toes digging into the soft, warm sand. Everything is silent, but I hear the sound of seagulls and the waves crashing against the shore. The water stretches all the way to the horizon, and I wonder briefly how long it would take me to swim all the way across it- to Europe. As the thought flits back out of my brain, Griffin is suddenly kneeling beside me in the sand.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

He takes one of my hands- buried in the beach as well- and wraps his own fingers around it, dusty sand trailing down our forearms. I watch them fall back to the beach, and then look up and meet his eyes. He's staring at me intensely- in a way no one has ever looked at me before- and it makes me feel as if I'm suddenly made of a flimsy material- as if I'm about to float away entirely.

"David won't like it," he finally replies.

I shake my head, completely and totally aware of his hand still in mine- his fingers tracing the lines of veins and tendons under my skin. "Won't like what?" I ask.

Suddenly, he's kissing me- angrily, passionately- and his hands are in my hair, and he's easing me backward, so that he's lying on top of me in the sand. And, while I've kissed boys before, it was never like this. I can feel his whole body against mine- can taste tongue between my lips. And it's wonderful and confusing, and I'm not exactly sure when it happened.

And then we're suddenly on the cold floor of his cave, and he's pulling away. "You'll have to kill someone."

"What?" I ask, because my knees have gone weak and I don't understand.

"She won't like it- your mum," he says. "Nobody will like it."

Finally, I demand, "What are you talking about?"

But a huge, imposing black man with white hair is stepping between us, picking me up by my neck and throwing me backward.

"Where's your loyalty?" he screams at me, and suddenly, Griffin is gone. "How can you turn against God like this?"

I'm shaking, weak and hurting as I lie on the floor. "I'm not!" I shout, my voice cracking. "I'm trying to save my mom!"

"There's no use! You've lost!"

His words make the world tilt frighteningly beneath me, and I break down on the cave floor. I'm sobbing, faintly aware of the sound of him taking something out, and suddenly electricity is shooting into my back and I'm-

-jolting up in bed, panting.

Looking around me, I see that I'm in the same small, dark room I fell asleep in, but for a moment I don't understand why I'm here- why I fell asleep here to begin with. And then it falls around me and I understand. The Paladins. I told the Paladin trainer, Marijke, after signing some kind of statement with my fake signature and getting a brief rundown of my duties as a new recruit, that I would need to leave before it got ridiculously late so I could go find a hotel to stay in since I was away from home. She then proceeded to tell me that they had spare rooms below the ground level and that I could have one of those until I got myself situated. And while I had been hoping to get out of the headquarters so I could get in touch with David, I guess it's also good that they trust me enough to house me.

God knows how badly David must be worrying though. Though I was given my things back, I'm afraid getting in touch with David will arouse suspicion- especially if they're watching me at all times, via cameras or something- so I haven't spoken to him since yesterday.

Marijke said she'd come get me for breakfast and the start of training, so I settle back into the small military style bed and pull the scratchy blankets up around me.

A flash-bulb image of Griffin with his hands on my waist suddenly pops in and out of my brain, and I'm startled by it- my breath escaping me as I remember the vividness of my dream.

What _was_ that?

Griffin? Oh, God. Never. He's a whiny, little pain in the ass. He's a jerk. He's... Apparently a good kisser, if my dream was any indication-

_Stop_.

I stop that train of thought before it can go any further and, instead, get out of bed and look around the room. It's plain- white walls, a gray bed, a desk, and small dresser. I fell asleep so quickly last night that I didn't get a chance to fully get a look at my surroundings, but now I know that there's not much to look at.

Quickly and numbly, I make my bed, and then I get dressed and sit down on top of the covers. I hug my legs to me and look around the room. I'm cold. And I've never felt so unsteady in my entire life. I've never had anything to really feel unsteady about. But here it is, the rug pulled out from underneath me and my world rocked to its core. So, I bow my head 'til my forehead is leaning against my knees, and I pray.

_Please, Lord God, please help me please help me through this. Lord God give me the strength I need to do the right thing and to know what the right thing is. God, please guide me always please Lord God. Please keep Mom safe Lord God please keep her within your embrace always but please keep her here with me Lord God I can't lose her. I'm not strong I'm not sure I'm not capable of anything but you can do anything God. Carry me, carry me through this. Keep David safe. Help me. Please Lord God helpe me help me help me help me-_

My head snaps open at the sound of a quick knock at my door, before it's thrown open.

"Time for breakfast," Marijke says.

* * *

Downstairs in the cafeteria, I meet the other recruits. There's Sara, who is quiet and small and serious, who avoids everyone's eyes. There's Chris, who's huge and angry and intimidating. There's gorgeous Ellie and awkward, gothic Alan. Liam, Frank, Joy, and Nathan. They all look so relatively normal and it leaves me surprised. Underneath all of their 'normal' exteriors are people who are willing and ready to kill for God. I know I look like I could fit in with them, but I'm not here to kill anyone. I'm not willing to kill people just because they can jump. I'm not here to pretend I know who deserves to live and die in this world. I'm just here to find out about Knox, to save my mom, and to get back to my normal life.

Marijke leaves us to eat our breakfast together and awkward conversation is made.

"You're new," Chris barks at me, his brow low over his eyes, reminding me of a neanderthal.

I nod, remembering my faux British accent. "Yes, I am."

"Where are you from?" Ellie asks, her glossy blonde ponytail flipped over her shoulder.

"England," I reply dumbly.

Chris snorts, as if this is hilarious. "And you came over here to join the Paladins?"

"I came over here to go to school," I tell him, my tone sharp and my voice bitter. I have no patience for these people right now. "But now I'm here to kill Paladins."

They all look up at this and regard me carefully, silence falling around us for several long moments.

"That's good," Liam finally says, his red hair falling into his eyes messily. "Because you'll be killing someone by the end of the week."

This makes me stop short. "What?"

"After the first week of training they have you kill a jumper to see if you actually have it in you," Ellie says, flashing a dazzlingly white smile at me. "If you really have the balls to kill for God."

I'm going to have to kill someone by the end of the week? I mean- I thought I was ready to kill to save my mom, if it came to that, but I don't know if I'm ready to kill someone to get information to save my mom. Oh my God. What does this mean? Can I get the information I need by the end of the week so I can just leave before I have to kill anyone? Or will it take longer than that?

"You do have it in you, don't you, new girl?"

Swallowing, I set the pretty blonde with a fierce look and say, "I do."

But, I'm not so sure that's the truth.


End file.
